


The Long, Long Road

by storywriter55



Series: Milestones [25]
Category: White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Car Accident, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Issues, Friendship, Rehabilitation, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 65
Words: 172,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywriter55/pseuds/storywriter55
Summary: Tragedy strikes and Neal is unable to cope with the fallout. Luckily, he is surrounded by people who love him and refuse to let him sink hopelessly into depression. Part of the 'Milestones' series (19.11 years).
Relationships: Neal Caffrey/Sara Ellis
Series: Milestones [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/80614
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Peter Burke let himself fall back on the pillow in obvious frustration.He stared up blankly at the ceiling and waited for his wife to give him the usual, humiliating pep talk.

‘Honey, it’s no big deal’ Elizabeth said, her voice full of empathy.

‘El, please….’ Peter began as he turned away from her and faced the window, arms crossed tightly across his chest. 

The fact that he was part of the vast majority of men who struggled with impotence following prostate cancer surgery wasn't much consolation.He wanted his life to be the way it had always been: full and satisfying in every way.

Elizabeth wasn't giving up that easily and she turned towards him, wrapping her arm around his chest and trying to pull him closer - easier said than done. She could feel his body muscles tensing under her not so welcome touch.

‘El… I just want to sleep’ Peter muttered as she finally gave up and returned to her side of the bed.

It had been just over four months since his cancer surgery and although everything looked good on that front, the surgery had left some extremely annoying and lingering side effects. Peter hadn't really considered that this could happen to _him;_ after all, despite his advancing years, performance in the bedroom had never been an issue for the ex-FBI agent.Throughout their thirty-two year marriage, Elizabeth had never had any complaints in that department and even though she wasn't complaining about the turn of events, he couldn't help feeling that he was letting her down - hell, he was letting _himself_ down.

‘Honey…’ she tried again as Peter dug in his heels and closed his eyes, pretending to be drifting off to sleep.

The only thing worse than not being able to get it up was getting sympathy for not being able to get it up. 

WCWCWC

‘Grrrr’ growled Sara as she set her book down beside her on the bed. ‘How are we supposed to concentrate with this all this racket!’

Neal brought his chin to his chest and peeked over the top of his reading glasses, eyes moving from the computer screen to his wife’s frustrated face.

‘You’re the one who wanted to stay home while she had the party’ he reminded her as she glared back.

‘As if we’re going to let a bunch of sixteen-year-olds have the run of the house’ she declared in that no-nonsense way he knew all too well.

Neal pushed the laptop off his lap and turned in bed to face her, his glasses still on the tip of his nose. He ran his hand over her stomach, settling on her hip and gave her an exaggerated leer.

‘I know how we could pass the time…’

She pushed his hand away playfully. ‘Neal! Stop it! I am _not_ having sex with a houseful of teenagers a few feet away’ she declared non equivocally.

‘Fine…’ Neal said, resigned, as he sat back up and reached for the laptop once again.

They had agreed to let Caitlin host her sweet sixteen party at the house and now they were wondering what they could have possibly been thinking when they’d given in to what had seemed to be a reasonable request - at the time. Caitlin Somersby had been living with them less than a year and this was her first birthday since she’d joined the Caffrey family - and a milestone birthday at that. Both Hope and Liam had hosted house parties over the years and it seemed only fair that they would grant their foster daughter the same privilege - except that this was Caitlin and whenever Caitlin was involved, things had a funny way of going awry.

The loud, annoyingly repetitive sound of… something could be heard beneath them and suddenly they heard glass shattering in the distance. Neal was instantly on his feet. He took the time to grab for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from their bedroom chair as Sara glared back at him.

‘What? I don't think going down there wearing nothing but silk sleep pants is going to give me the gravitas I'm going for’ Neal mumbled as he zipped up his pants and reached the bedroom door.

He stepped out into the hallway and was instantly aware of some loud giggling nearby. He followed the sound up the hall to Caitlin’s room, shocked to find an unidentified couple making out on his foster daughter’s bed. The teens looked up, eyes wide as Neal stood in the doorway, turning on the bright bedroom light as he stared at them in disbelief.

‘Hey! Romeo and Juliet. Downstairs! Now!’ he declared as the teens scrambled to stand and make a quick exit.

The noise was increasingly deafening as Neal made his way down the stairs - the combination of music and loud chatter making it impossible to form a single coherent thought. He noticed how the house seemed full, although they had been explicit about limiting the number of guests to twenty or so.

Two young men looked up at Neal as he stepped off the stairs and they gave him an arrogant look - as if they belonged there and he didn’t. The sneer on their faces threw Neal off and he looked down, noticing the rolled up joint in one of the boys’ hands. Without hesitation, he made his way over to the young kid and grabbed him by the collar as he dragged him to the nearby front door, depositing him right outside despite the cool March night.

‘Out!’ Neal added for emphasis as the second kid followed his buddy into the cool night air.

He was on his way back when he heard the all too familiar sound of retching coming from the bathroom by the front door and he glanced in, noticing a young girl kneeling by the toilet while another dark haired girl held her hair as she emptied the contents of her stomach in the toilet.

Great! Sex, drugs _and_ booze - Caitlin had managed to break the three cardinal rules already. He waited a moment for the vomiter to finish doing her business and she finally looked up, bleary-eyed at the man who had suddenly appeared. She stood, embarrassed as Neal glared down at the two of them.

‘Call your parents. Now.’ he said to the least impaired of the two. ‘…and tell them to come and get you. The party’s over.’

The sound of music blaring grew impossibly louder as Neal followed the sound and made his way to the back of the house towards the kitchen and family room where most of the chatter was coming from. It didn’t take long for him to realize what that loud, thumping sound had been and he leaned down to pick up the basketball that lay right next to the tiffany lamp in the family room - the very one that had been a gift from June and which was now lying in shattered bits on the hardwood floor.

Neal looked around to see where Caitlin and Liam were, not seeing either one of them at first. 

‘Do you want a beer?’ a young girl asked as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

Neal stared back in disbelief. ‘Do I want a beer?’ he repeated. ‘No, I do _not_ want a beer… and neither do you!’ Neal said as he took the bottle from the young girl’s hand, watching as her eyes grew in surprise.

Suddenly, there was deathly silence as Neal killed the music, all eyes turning to see what the problem was. And that’s when Neal spotted Caitlin on the couch, in a heavy-duty make-out session with a boy who looked to be at least eighteen.

His jaw dropped and he tried to collect himself as he prepared to call an end to the festivities. There had to be at least fifty kids roaming around the house and any good will on his part had now evaporated.

‘Party’s over!’ he called out loudly above the chatter. ‘Everybody out!’

The usual moaning and groaning could be heard as the teens began to collect their things and suddenly Caitlin was standing in front of him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

‘I can't believe you did this to me’ she shouted, indignant. ‘I’ll never forgive you!’

WCWCWC

The house had grown quiet, the guests long gone and Caitlin sat, fidgeting on the family room couch as Neal and Sara sat across from her, staring her down. Nearby, the soft sound of the broom could be heard as Liam cleaned up the remnants of June’s heirloom.

‘You totally embarrassed me in front of all my friends’ Caitlin moaned as Neal swallowed to keep from saying something he’d live to regret. 

Instead, he stood and stepping over the mess left behind by the hooligans, he made is way to the fridge, grabbing a sheet of paper which had been hanging there.

‘Read it’ he said to Caitlin as she tried to focus her eyes.

‘It’s late…’ she complained.

‘I don’t care how late it is’ Neal said as Sara looked on. ‘Read it.’

Caitlin gave her foster dad a look of sheer exasperation and turned her eyes to the contract she’d signed the week before in anticipation of the long awaited party.

‘I agree to…’ she mumbled.

‘Louder, Caitlin. We can’t hear you’ Sara said in exasperation.

‘I agree to the following conditions…’ Caitlin resumed. ‘No more than twenty friends, no alcohol, no drugs and I will do all the clean up.’

Neal pointed to Liam who was busy nearby, putting paper cups and plates in a large garbage bag.

‘Liam…’ Caitlin said. ‘I’ll do that.’

‘And where were _you_ when all this was going on?’ Sara asked as Liam looked down, embarrassed.

‘Mom, those kids who brought the beer don't even go to our school’ he moaned.

‘My point, exactly’ Neal said. ‘You can’t control who’s going to show up when you start telling everyone you’re having a party.’

‘I didn’t tell _everybody_ …’ Caitlin muttered. ‘I just… mentioned it on my Instagram page, that’s all.’

‘Well, tomorrow, you can mention _this_ on Instagram. You are grounded for the foreseeable future, you will work off the cost of replacing that lamp and you are never having a party in this house again’ Neal said, his voice even.

He stood and put out his hand to Sara. ‘Now, Mom and I are going to bed and when we get up tomorrow morning, we expect this place to be just as clean and tidy as it was when we got up _this_ morning. Is _that_ clear?’

Caitlin and Liam exchanged looks and grabbed for the garbage bags.

WCWCWC

Neal sat across from Peter in their usual diner, sharing coffee and looking equally miserable.

‘… and then, she had the nerve to say _I’d_ embarrassed _her_!’ Neal complained. He was on a roll as he filled Peter in on the events from the night before in vivid detail.

Peter gave him a pensive look and Neal frowned.

‘What’s with you anyway? You look like someone stuck their tongue out at you and ran off with your commendation award’ Neal said in jest.

Peter rolled his eyes and gave his best friend a forced smile. Suddenly, the little light went on and Neal snapped out of his little Caitlin hissy fit, tuning in to Peter’s ongoing woes.

‘Naw… it didn't happen again, did it?’ Neal asked, glancing up at a very sad looking Peter.

Peter shrugged self-consciously. He didn't like talking about his sex life, thriving or otherwise, but Neal was the only one he could confide in. He certainly couldn't tell El how totally incompetent he was feeling.

‘I’m sorry Peter’ Neal added.

‘I thought I had it this time’ Peter admitted sheepishly. ‘It started out great, I…’ Peter hesitated, weighing his words. ‘…you know, I was able to get going but…’

Neal looked up at his best friend and gave him a sad smile. He remembered all too well how he’d felt when he was recuperating from his gunshot wound two years before and how the temporary bout of impotence had played havoc with his self-esteem.

‘Did you talk about it… with the doctor?’ Neal asked.

‘He says, chances are, things will all… work out if I just wait a little longer’ Peter said, staring down at his coffee cup.

‘Well, that sounds encouraging’ Neal said in an attempt to cheer his best friend up.

‘It’s been four months, Neal. I mean, even for me and El, that’s… that’s a long time.’

Neal could certainly empathize; he’d been called upon to rein in his sexual impulses over the past few months as Sara worked through the ordeal she’d recently suffered at the hands of a couple of thugs. They were both still in therapy, working things out, and they’d recently begun to resume a more normal sex life although Sara still seemed fragile and he was still overly cautious.

Peter seemed to realize Neal’s predicament and he gave him a shy smile. ‘Sorry, for a minute there, I forgot about what you and Sara have been going through lately…’

‘It’s okay, Peter’ Neal said. ‘That’s not about me not being able to… you know… but I _do_ know what it’s like to get performance anxiety.

Neal thought for a moment, not wanting to overstep. Except for a few specific situations in the past, he and Peter weren't ‘kiss and tell’ kind of guys.

‘You know, when I was paralyzed’ he began cautiously. ‘Sara and I used to… experiment, you know, try new things. It doesn't _always_ have to be about intercourse.’

The waitress returned to fill their cups and they instinctively changed the subject, both slightly embarrassed by the topic of conversation.

‘So, when’s Hope’s study week?’ Peter asked. He hadn't seen his goddaughter since Christmas break and he was looking forward to spending some time with her when she came to town.

‘Next week’ Neal said with a warm smile. Thinking of his beautiful daughter always did that to him. ‘I think she's coming home a week from tomorrow.’

‘Ah, that explains why Cam’s been walking around with that goofy smile on his face’ Peter said with a laugh.

‘Oh, by the way, do you have stuff for Caitlin to do at the gallery?’ Neal asked as he took a sip of his coffee. ‘She’s got a debt to pay off and I’ve got her helping out with some of the classes at the school but…’

‘…you want her to suffer’ Peter said, ending Neal’s thought.

Neal shrugged and cocked an eyebrow in response.

‘Yeah, there’s always stuff to do around the gallery’ Peter responded.

‘Good’ Neal answered. ‘And Peter, make it unpleasant.’

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth Mitchell Burke and Sara Ellis Caffrey were a very odd pair indeed. One was a devoted wife who had fallen into a career as an event planner, the other, a single-minded career woman who had drifted into marriage to an ex-con. The two women had very different values and priorities in their young adult lives, as different as night and day. One had focussed her attention on supporting her husband, an upstanding citizen who made it his life’s work to protect and serve. The other had invested everything she had into her career, thumbing her nose at convention and tradition, intent on leaving her mark on the world as a badass insurance investigator.

And yet, the fates of the two women had become inextricably entwined because of the men in their lives, they, themselves, strange bedfellows, to say the least. It had all started when the event planner had offered to help the career woman plan her wedding, a bonding experience which had led to a warm, caring friendship and the two women had never looked back. Twenty years later, they were as close as two friends could be, sharing a love of family and an unwavering commitment to those they held dear.

And so, while their husbands were sitting in a diner commiserating about their perceived shortcomings in the bedroom, the best friends sat at the kitchen table of the Caffrey home, sharing a most excellent bottle of Italian red.

‘So, how are things going with you and Peter?’ Sara asked.

Elizabeth took a deep breath before answering. ‘Oh Sara, I hate to see him like this. Sex has never been an issue for Peter and suddenly, he’s acting like _this_ is what defines him as a man.’

Sara stood to get the bottle of wine from the nearby kitchen counter and returned, filling up their glasses. ‘Men are like that, El. They wield that thing like… like it’s some sort of a badge of honour and if you mess with their mojo, well, they’re at a loss.’

‘But that’s just it. It’s not that big a deal… I mean, sure I enjoy sex but I crave the closeness and the intimacy. Actual intercourse is nice but it’s not the be all, end all, you know.’

Sara nodded and took a sip of wine. She knew exactly what her friend was talking about.

‘I remember after Neal got shot… he worried about how he was going to use the washroom and how he was going to get around without the use of his legs but when it came down to it, one of the first questions out of his mouth when we met with the doctor was about sex. I think it’s just all wrapped up in their ‘man pride’ - damn testosterone’ Sara muttered.

Elizabeth was looking disheartened and Sara reached out to touch her hand. ‘There _was_ one piece of advice Neal’s doctor gave us that was helpful, though’ she said as El looked up, open to new ideas.

‘To just relax and try new things… like you said, it’s not all about intercourse, contrary to what most men seem to think. I remember one night, we got a little crazy with some whipped cream and some chocolate pudding’ she said with a giggle. ‘It just took the pressure off and we were both able to relax and enjoy being with each other. I remember us laughing until it hurt.’

Elizabeth chuckled at the image Sara’s words had conjured up.

‘What about you two? Are things pretty well back to normal?’ El asked.

Sara looked thoughtful for a moment. It had been a difficult few months since her sexual assault at the hands of a pair of kidnappers. Neal had been wonderfully patient and caring while she recuperated from the aftermath and more than anything, all she wanted was to go back to the way things had been before the terrible ordeal.

‘We’ve… we’ve started to have sex again but… I always get the feeling Neal is holding back. I think he’s afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and upsetting me.’

Elizabeth gave her friend a gentle smile. ‘He loves you and he wants to make sure you’re all right.’

Sara shrugged. They were still far from those carefree days when their lovemaking was spontaneous, steamy and intense. These days, Neal kept things in the bedroom very ‘vanilla’, constantly checking in with her to make sure she was okay.She longed for him to give in to his unrestrained desires and make love to her like he used to but she knew they still had a ways to go before she could feel confident and secure enough to totally let loose and let that happen.

‘Well, we’re getting there, one step at a time and I have to say Neal has been amazingly patient and sweet’ Sara said with a faraway look in her eyes. ‘If things continue to go well, Marion thinks we’ll be able to stop seeing her in a couple of months.’

Marion Birch had been a godsend and even though Neal had had to drag Sara to therapy, kicking and screaming, she had to admit she was grateful for the therapist who was a terrific listener and the source of steadfast support.

‘Sara’ a soft voice was heard coming from the front of the house. ‘Can I go shopping with Mel?’

‘No honey, you can’t’ Sara said as El looked on. ‘You know what we said, just school and work for the next week.’

Caitlin’s shoulders drooped as she made her way to the family room and slumped down on the couch, reaching for the remote control. El and Sara exchanged looks. In contrast to their hell on wheels foster daughter, Hope had never given her parents much to worry about. Although their daughter was just as headstrong and fiery as Caitlin, Hope had always had a strong sense of duty and good old fashioned common sense, something that was sorely lacking in their young foster daughter. For all of Caitlin’s strengths and obvious talents, she still battled her impulses on a daily basis much as Neal had done, not so successfully, in _his_ youth.

Elizabeth waited for the sound of the television to drown out their voices.

‘What’s that all about?’ she asked, her voice quiet.

‘Don’t ask’ Sara said, shaking her head.

WCWCWC

‘So, is Cody coming over for dinner tonight?’ Neal asked as he puttered around the kitchen getting a start on the evening meal. 

‘No’ Liam answered simply, eyes avoiding his dad’s.

‘How come? He usually comes over on Saturday nights’ Neal said, sensing something was up.

Come to think of it, in the middle of the chaos the previous night, he remembered seeing Liam and his boyfriend in a heated discussion, just outside the patio door, despite the cold and the fact that there were still traces of snow covering the back deck.

‘We broke up’ Liam said, his head down.

Neal stopped what he was doing and sat next to his son at the table. ‘Broke up?’

‘Yeah, we’ve been talking about seeing other people for a while’ Liam explained.

Since coming out the previous year, Liam Caffrey and Cody Miller had been seeing each other exclusively, not an easy feat when you weren't even quite fifteen years old. Although a little older than Liam and by far the more outgoing half of the couple, Cody had been a very positive influence in Liam’s life, helping him come out successfully and being a supportive and caring friend.

Neal studied his son’s face. ‘And whose idea was that?’ he asked, already surmising the answer.

‘Mostly Cody’s’ Liam admitted.

‘I’m sorry, buddy. Breaking up is always hard… especially the first time’ Neal said as he placed his hand on Liam’ shoulder.

The young man shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. Neal knew better. Liam was a gentle soul and it was obvious by the look on his face that he was hurting.

‘I know you can’t see it now, but there’ll be plenty of others… and someday, you’ll find the right guy for you.’

‘But I thought Cody _was_ the right guy.’

‘He was, at the time… but people grow and change.And you guys have so many years ahead of you before you’re ready to settle down and make a commitment’ Neal explained.

‘Did you go out with other women before Mom?’ Liam asked as Neal laughed softly.

‘Yeah… a few’ Neal said as he thought of his long, sordid past.

‘Were you in love with them?’ Liam asked.

Neal thought about his answer carefully before speaking. His son was asking some pretty tough questions and he owed him the truth. ’I thought I was… I probably was at the time but people change and until we figure out exactly what we want out of life, it’s hard to commit to someone else.’

‘What about Mom? How did you know _she_ was the one?’ Liam asked, suddenly interested.

Neal scoffed as he thought back to his long, tortuous relationship with Sara Ellis. ’Well, believe it or not, we didn’t start out liking each other very much. I thought she was a cold, calculating… woman’ he said, foregoing the term which had _really_ popped into his head. ‘and, well, she couldn't see past my… indiscretions’ Neal said.

‘Because you’d been in prison?’ Liam asked.

‘There was that… but…’ Neal stopped suddenly and stared at Liam. ‘Where’s all this coming from, anyway?’

Liam shrugged. ‘I don’t know… you and Mom don't talk much about when you first met.’

‘Well, let’s just say, it wasn't a traditional courtship’ Neal said as he looked into his son’s eyes. ‘But your mom and I… it took a while but we finally figured out we brought out the best in each other. Sometimes, we don't even see the good in ourselves and it takes someone to come along and point things out to us.’

Neal studied his son carefully. ‘I think Cody did that for _you,_ didn't he?’

Liam shrugged. ‘I guess… I was scared about coming out and there he was, working with the Gay Straight Alliance, out and proud and he kind of made me want to be… stronger, I guess or at least more honest.’

Neal nodded. ‘Cody was a very good first boyfriend for you but you know, people break up for all kinds of reasons, age, timing, circumstances beyond our control… Just have faith in yourself, Liam. You’ve got a lot of living ahead of you.’

Liam smiled - a sad smile, but a smile all the same.

‘Thanks Dad’ he said.

WCWCWC

Early Sunday morning, Sara found Neal sitting at their kitchen table, laptop open and notes scribbled in front of him, hard at work.

‘What are you working on?’ she asked as she leaned in to kiss his cheek and peek over his shoulder.

‘I think I’ve managed to narrow it down to three options’ he said, looking pleased with himself.

‘For your mom?’ Sara asked as she grabbed for a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee.

She settled at the table next to Neal and she glanced down at the pad on the table, full of scribbles, arrows and a few unique Caffrey doodles.

‘This one’s closer to here but this one has a better reputation’ he said, pointing.

‘Do they have any available beds?’ Sara asked.

‘The one in New Rochelle does’ Neal answered. ‘There’s a bed available a week from tomorrow but we have to act quickly if we want it or they'll offer it to someone else.’

‘A week from tomorrow! Do you think we can get her here that quickly?’ Sara asked.

They’d been working for months on getting Linda Bennett moved to New York City so she could be closer to Neal and the kids but now that it was a real possibility, it seemed like an overwhelmingly daunting task. Neal had been researching facilities since his mom had visited at Thanksgiving. He’d begun to realize her time was short, her health was continuing to deteriorate and he wasn't able to get out to visit her as often as he’d like. Moving to NYC was a win-win proposition, a way for her to be near her family and a chance for Neal to spend some quality time with his mom before it was too late. He’d had more than enough regrets in his life, after all.

‘The retirement home in St. Louis confirmed she only needs to give one week’s notice; they’ve got someone on standby to take her room. They’ll even arrange transport for her’ Neal explained.

‘Wow! Does she know yet?’ Sara asked.

Neal shook his head. ’I’m going to call her after lunch and see what she thinks. Honey, I think this could be it’ Neal said, his voice excited.

Sara stood and put her arms around her husband’s neck. ‘I know how much you want this for her - and for you’ she said as he nodded.

‘I think this’ll be really good for Caitlin, too’ Neal added.

For some reason, Caitlin had taken a shine to Linda when she’d visited at Thanksgiving. They’d bonded over their love of sculpture and their affinity for young children. Caitlin had even accompanied Neal on his last visit to St. Louis. Whenever she was around Linda, Caitlin turned into a gentle, kind soul, eager to be of help.

‘What are you two talking about?’ Caitlin asked as she appeared out of nowhere.

‘I think we might have a spot in a nearby nursing home for Grandma. Do you want to come along when I go check it out?’ Neal asked as Caitlin’s face lit up.

‘Really?’ she shrieked as she threw her arms around Neal’s neck.

‘Really!’ he answered just as enthusiastically.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The Raphael Gallery on West 27th in the Chelsea Art District of Manhattan was a going concern. The gallery was Neal and Sara’s love child, born from a lot of blood, sweat and tears - to say nothing of time and money. Now that Neal had to divide his time between his cherished gallery and his equally beloved school of art, he had entrusted the day to day running of the place to his protege, Cameron Armstrong and his best friend, Peter Burke. Neal still made almost daily appearances at the gallery, weighing in on recent acquisitions, checking with Peter on the business end of things and generally making certain the gallery was a reflection of who he was and what he wanted it to be.

On Tuesday morning, he arrived for one of his regular visits to find Cameron busy with the layout for a new exhibition, one that featured an artist Neal had come across on one of his and Sara’s many excursions to local art schools in search of new talent.

‘Mr. Caffrey! Hi!’ Cameron called out from the top of a step ladder as he fiddled with a particularly large piece.

‘Ooooh, good choice, Cam. I _like_ that one there’ Neal commented as he stepped back to get the full effect. ‘That’s a beauty!’

‘It’s my favourite one too. You sure can pick ‘em Mr. Caffrey. I think this guy’s gonna be huge’ Cam agreed as he started to climb down.

Neal glanced around the place, noticing how quiet it was - not so unusual for a Tuesday right after lunch.

‘Where’s Peter?’ Neal asked, noting his best friend’s desk was sitting empty.

‘Oh, he had a meeting at the bank at 1:30. He’ll be back in a little while.’

Neal made his way to Peter’s desk and began poking around, checking bills and other sundry papers lying there.

‘Wow, the numbers are really up for the Saturday morning classes, huh?’ he said as he studied a spreadsheet.

‘Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. I’ve got a few ideas I’d like to run by you’ Cam said. ‘Look, I was just about to run next door and grab something to eat. Do you want anything? We could talk while we eat.’

‘Sure, a Caesar wrap and a Perrier would be great. Thanks’ Neal said as he settled in at Peter’s desk to have a look at the books.

He watched the young man leave, the little bell over the door signalling his departure and his mind wandered to thoughts of Hope. Both he and Cam would be thrilled to have her home again in a few days.

Cameron Armstrong had been a student of Neal’s when he’d first taught Art History at NYU a few years back. The ex-con had taken an immediate liking to the young man and he hadn't hesitated to offer him a part-time job when they’d finally opened the gallery that winter, over three years ago. Cameron wasn't a flashy kind of guy, nothing like Neal had been in his youth, but Neal envied him his quiet, unassuming confidence and his unwavering ethics… pretty well the opposite of what Neal had been at his age.

It had been obvious to Neal from day one that Cam was madly in love with his little girl. At first, he and Sara had worried about the three year age difference between them but the lovebirds had proven them wrong over time, growing stronger as a couple despite their frequent separations - mainly due to the fact that Hope was now living and studying in Pittsburgh.Despite the time spent apart and a couple of time-outs, Hope and Cameron kept gravitating back to each other time and time again and, as of late, they seemed to be going stronger than ever.

Neal glanced down at the latest financial report, noting how the gallery was doing better than ever. Its prime location in the Art District made it a popular place for art connoisseurs interested in up and coming artists, something Neal was getting a well deserved reputation for promoting. The gallery had developed a loyal clientele base since its opening and newcomers were coming in all the time, attracted to the laid back look and vibe of the gallery. As far as Neal was concerned, Cameron had just the right touch - close attention to details, attentive to clients’ needs and a great eye to boot and Neal was thankful for this young man at a time when he needed to give the June Ellington School of Art his undivided attention.

The door jingled again and Neal looked up from the latest financial statement to find Cam standing there, coat wide open and loaded up with food and drinks.

‘Why don't we set up in the back room’ the young man suggested. ‘It’ll be more private back there and we can still listen for the door.’

Neal pulled out the petty cash box from its spot in Peter’s desk and followed Cam into the back room where they taught their art classes. 

‘Let’s consider this a working lunch’ Neal said as he reached into the small metal box to grab some cash. ‘Do you have the cash receipt from the cafe?’

He watched as Cam put the food down and began searching his coat pockets, pulling out his keys followed by his phone as he attempted to locate the lunch receipt which he’d apparently stuffed deep into the recesses of his pocket. Neal’s eyes were immediately drawn to a small velvet box Cam had pulled out and the young man quickly made a grab for it, hoping his boss hadn't noticed it.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!’ Neal said, eyes growing. ‘What was _that_?’

Cam’s eyes rose to meet his boss’ gaze and Neal couldn't help but notice how flustered the young man looked - almost as if he’d done something wrong.

His voice said ‘ _It’s nothing…_ ’ but his eyes said ‘ _You caught me…_ ’ and Neal waited for the young man to come clean.

‘Is that what I _think_ it is?’ Neal asked, almost certain of the answer.

Cameron let out a nervous giggle and pulled out the royal blue velvet box a second time as Neal’s eyes grew in surprise.This time, Neal could plainly see the name of the store on top in gilded gold letters - _Perrywinkles_ , the very same jewelry store where he’d bought Sara’s engagement ring all those years ago. 

‘I was waiting for the right time to talk to you about it…’ Cameron said, his voice suddenly shaky. ‘But I guess this is as good a time as any. My dad said tradition is important… and that I should ask for your permission… before I ask Hope.’

Neal felt a sudden lump in his throat as he began to decipher what Cam was saying and he swallowed hard to cover it up. ‘Cameron… you know I’d do anything for my little girl. If this is what she wants and this is what’s going to make her happy, well, then… you have my blessing.’

‘Thank you sir’ Cameron said as he shook Neal’s hand vigorously. Neal didn't think he’d ever heard the young man call him ‘sir’ - at least not for ages - and he couldn't help but smile at the look of relief on Cam’s face.

Neal stared down at the box still firmly in Cameron’s hand. ‘Come on, kid. We’ve come this far…’ he said, nodding his head towards the small package and urging the young man to show him the contents hidden inside.

Cam gave a shy smile and opened it up gingerly, clearly hoping for approval from the man he hoped was destined to become his father-in-law.

‘Wow!’ Neal said as he took in the diamond solitaire, simple yet elegant - just like Hope.

‘Oh, buddy’ Neal exclaimed as he admired the ring. ‘You did good!’

‘You think so?’ Cam asked, anxious. ‘I just picked it up this morning on my way in.’

Neal felt the need to lighten things up. ‘I didn't think I paid you enough for you to afford a ring like that.’

Cameron laughed heartily. ‘Well, let’s just say, I’ll be paying for it for a while but… well, if Hope likes it, it’ll be worth every penny.’

Neal gave the young man a friendly slap on the shoulder and Cameron seemed to relax.

‘She’s going to love it!’ Neal said. ‘I’m really happy for you Cam. I know you’ll make Hope very happy.’

‘Well, she hasn't said yes _yet_ ’ Cam warned. ‘But… we did talk about it at Christmastime and we both agreed that if I could be patient until she finishes school… well…’

‘So? Birthday gift?’ Neal asked, pointing to the ring.

‘Yeah, I thought I’d surprise her with it when she’s here next week.’

Neal beamed at the thought of his daughter with such a thoughtful, caring young man. His vision was suddenly blurry and he surreptitiously wiped his eyes, hoping Cam hadn't noticed.

By the time he looked up again, Cameron had stuffed the box back in his pocket and was reaching for the food.

And instantly, the moment had passed and the two men got down to discussing business.

WCWCWC

‘Mmmm. Banana pudding!’ Peter exclaimed as he peeked into the fridge.

‘That’s for later’ Elizabeth said mysteriously as she urged him to sit down and enjoy his dinner.

El had decided to take a page out of her best friend’s playbook and see if she could entice Peter into relaxing and having a little fun - chocolate wasn't his thing, though, so she’d gone with Peter’s favourite flavour, banana. Hopefully, they could let loose and laugh a little - something that was sorely missing in their relationship these days. And if it led to some satisfying fun between the sheets… well, all the better.

‘My mom used to make banana pudding all the time when I was growing up’ he added with a wistful smile. ‘ _Everything_ about it reminds me of her, the smell, the taste, the texture…’ he said with a faraway look in his eyes.

Crap! Maybe the pudding wasn’t such a good idea after all, El reflected as she thought of her late mother-in-law. As much as she’d loved the woman, she sure as hell didn't want her husband thinking of mommy dearest while _she_ was busy seducing him. 

Back to the drawing board.

WCWCWC

The building on Murray Street was located in a quiet part of New Rochelle, away from the hustle and bustle of the business district. Neal liked the place immediately and he noticed it was one of those retirement homes that was affiliated with a child care centre, a fact he knew would appeal to his mom. The Amica Retirement Home in St. Louis had such a program and Linda loved it when the children joined the seniors for special activities; as a matter of fact, it was one of the reasons she had hesitated to leave her present living arrangements and move to New York City. 

Neal glanced over at his companion; it wasn't lost on him that Caitlin’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree at the sight of the children running around the playground out by the visitor’s parking lot.

‘It has a daycare centre!’ she exclaimed as they entered the building on their way to their scheduled visit.

‘I see that’ Neal said with a smile. ‘Come on, let’s go check the rest of the place out.’

They were met in the lobby by the retirement home’s director, a kind looking and energetic woman of about sixty, who looked like somebody’s grandmother herself.

‘Mr. Caffrey’ the woman said, putting out her hand in greeting. ‘I’m Arlene Dwyer, we spoke on the phone. And this must be your lovely daughter’ she added as she smiled at Caitlin.

Caitlin gave Neal a hesitant look, thrilled at the fact he hadn't bothered to correct the woman and she smiled and put out her hand in greeting. ‘Hi, I’m Caitlin.’

‘Well, Caitlin, I couldn't help but notice you checking out our playground on the way in. I take it you like working with young children?’ the woman asked as she took her arm and led them both towards the main dining room.

Caitlin nodded and Neal piped up. ‘Caitlin is great with young kids, she helps out at our art school every Saturday morning’ he commented, just like any proud papa might say.

‘Well, we have a volunteer program at the day care if you’re interested’ said Mrs. Dwyer. ‘If your grandmother decides to settle here, I guess you’ll be visiting her from time to time.’

The tour of the retirement home was extensive and included a visit of the beautiful grounds which were still covered in patches of snow yet held the promise of flowering gardens and beautiful landscaping. A peek at the room that was available for Linda Bennett confirmed that she would be very comfortable if she chose to move in and Neal couldn't help but notice the many activity rooms including a pool and a spa. He took countless pictures to send along to his mom and hoped she’d be as impressed as he was with the airiness and professionalism of the place.

Neal had brought along Linda’s medical records and before leaving, he was directed to the third floor offices to meet with the Head of Nursing so he could explain his mom’s particular health issues while Mrs. Dwyer took Caitlin down to the day care centre to meet the staff and collect a volunteer application form.

By the time they left, they were both thrilled with the place. All that was left was for Neal to run it by him mom and it would be a done deal.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

‘Mom, did you get the pictures we sent?’ Neal asked as the four of them sat around the table, listening in on speaker phone.

‘I did’ Linda Bennett answered, miles away. ‘Neal, the place looks beautiful…’

‘But?’ Neal responded nervously as he and Sara locked eyes.

‘Well… it looks expensive. I’m not sure I can afford it’ she answered as Neal let out a sigh of relief.

‘Don’t worry about _that_ , Mom. Just tell me… do you like it?’ Neal asked.

‘What’s there _not_ to like, honey. The room is twice the size of my room and the nursing care looks top notch’ she said, catching her breath.

‘Grandma, did you see the pictures of the day care I sent. It’s on the first floor and the woman told me that the seniors get to visit with the kids once a week’ Caitlin enthused as Neal and Sara exchanged knowing looks.

‘I _thought_ those pictures might have been your doing’ Linda said with a breathless laugh followed by a fit of coughing.

‘You okay, Mom?’ Neal asked once she’d regained her breath.

‘I’m fine Neal. Stop worrying about me so much’ she said, her voice quivering.

‘Mom, I can’t wait to have you here. You’ll be able to come over and have dinner with us whenever you want and we can visit you all the time’ Neal said, sounding like an excited ten-year-old.

‘Say yes, Grandma’ Liam called out as everyone held their breath.

It took a few seconds, deadly silence on the line and then Linda Bennett spoke a single word. 

‘Yes!’

WCWCWC

The rest of the week turned out to be a blur. There was plenty of paperwork involved in preparing for Linda Bennett’s move from Missouri to New York State. Neal was on the phone non-stop, talking with the staff at the Amica Retirement Home, making sure her medical records and her list of medications were transferred over to the Blue Skies Nursing Home in New Rochelle, making sure all her things were packed up and shipped, applying for the financial aid she was entitled to, ensuring her safe transport.

He’d been reunited with his mom for almost a year and in that time he'd seen her health continue to deteriorate as the stomach cancer she was valiantly battling continued to spread unabated. She’d been on oxygen for a few months now and her energy level waxed and waned, depending on the time of day and, as Neal had noticed, the time of year. Winter had been particularly rough on her and he hoped that, with spring right around the corner, she might pick up a little. One thing was for sure, being surrounded by people who loved her couldn't help but lift her spirits. 

Just past midnight on Thursday night, Neal was still at it as he sat, surrounded by mountains of paperwork with a snoring Raffie at his feet. 

‘There you are’ came Sara’s voice as she appeared in the family room clad in a t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants. ‘Everybody’s sound asleep. How come you’re still down here?’

Neal looked up briefly and moved the stack of papers aside to make room for his wife next to him on the couch.

‘Just a few more days until my mom gets here… I’m just checking to make sure the transport is all squared away’ he said, barely glancing at her.

Sara ignored the spot he’d cleared for her on the couch and instead, slipped onto Neal’s lap, positioning herself between him and the piece of paper in his hand.

He laughed at her bold move. ‘What’s this? Some sort of intervention?’

She leaned down to place a lingering kiss on his neck, mewling in his ear. ‘I’m just not sure what I need to do to get your attention these days’ she whispered suggestively.

Neal let the papers he’d been holding drop onto the pile next to him, his hands moving to Sara’s hips as he pulled her in closer.

‘I think you’re selling yourself short, Repo’ he murmured, his voice husky.

His mouth found hers and he latched onto her bottom lip, gently biting it before finally letting go to look into her mischievous eyes. ‘Something tells me you know _exactly_ what to do.’

Their lips met once again, Sara eager to make Neal forget about his mom, albeit for a little while. Her hands found their way into his thick mane of hair and she tugged gently.

‘You need a haircut, Caffrey’ she murmured, her mouth nipping at his smiling mouth.

‘Mmmm’ she heard Neal moan as his hands began to roam up and down her back, lips still locked on hers.

‘Come to bed’ she whispered breathlessly into his ear. 

She felt Neal shiver. ‘I don’t want to move from here’ he groaned as his hand began to travel under her t-shirt, cupping her breast while his other hand lingered languorously up and down her leg.

‘You know you’re going to regret it in the morning if we stay on this couch’ she reminded him although his mind - and his body - had already moved on to more sensuous pursuits.

Neal’s mouth and hands were doing amazingly naughty things and Sara didn't want to kill the mood despite the fact she knew Neal would be moaning about something else altogether in the morning, namely his aching back.

His hands moved momentarily to the stack of papers on the couch beside him as he swept them to the floor and he pushed Sara onto her back, positioning himself between her legs. Without hesitation, he proceeded to slip the t-shirt over her head and his mouth moved to her breast, running his tongue along the underside with a soft growl. Feeling her shudder, he moved to capture her nipple between his teeth, his hunger for her growing exponentially with every passing second. Five minutes before he'd been immersed in planning for his mom’s arrival and now, he was totally focussed on his wife’s luscious lips and warm, pliant body and he was primed and ready for action.

Sara’s eyes drifted shut, enjoying Neal’s mouth on her and she let out a satisfied sigh, feeling that familiar warmth in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time they'd made out on the couch but, with the house quiet and everyone asleep, getting it on in the family room was titillating in ways the vanilla sex they’d been having as of late couldn't compare.

As he always did these days, Neal came up for air and searched her face, his eyes narrowing. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he forced himself to ask, praying that he wasn't reading the signals wrong.

Sara slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. ‘Do I _look_ okay?’ she asked, her smile playful and her eyes dark. ‘As it happens, I’m badly in need of some Caffrey loving’ she added as he shook his head in amusement and let out a breathless laugh.

Although she knew he was just doing his due diligence by making sure he was reading her correctly, the prescribed ritual of checking in with her was becoming tedious and annoying and she longed for him to just dive in, head first, taking his cues from her body language without asking for permission. 

It had taken months of therapy to get them to this point and despite all the progress they’d made, Neal was still tentative, unwilling to take anything for granted. He was terrified that in a moment of unbridled passion, he might miss out on some cue and not notice that Sara was reliving some horrible memory of what had happened during those long hours of captivity. Despite how far they'd come, he was still holding back, worried he might accidentally say or do something that would cause her to flash back to the assault she’d suffered. They’d spent hours in therapy discussing ways Sara could feel safe and secure as they resumed their previous level of intimacy and that meant Neal had to make sure she felt comfortable whenever they connected sexually.

‘Neal, look at me’ she whispered as she held his face in her hands to keep him from looking away. ‘I’m here… in this moment with _you_ , I want _you._ Please, _please_ don't hold back’ she implored, her voice emotional.

Neal’s breathing began to falter as he became more and more hopelessly invested in the moment. His hands moved down to the edge of her sleep pants and she lifted her hips to give him better access as he pulled them down, his hands instantly finding that wonderful, welcoming warmth between her legs.

Sara’s moans intensified, a sure sign she was with the program and if there were any doubts, they were dispelled when she spoke, her voice quiet in the otherwise silent room.

‘I want you Caffrey…’ she murmured softly as he grunted in response, now totally turned on.

He was still fully dressed but with Sara’s help, he peeled everything off in record time, eyes still riveted on hers, making sure this was what she wanted, what she _really_ wanted. It sure as hell was what _he_ wanted, what he hadn't realized he'd been missing - the spontaneity of the moment, doing it right there in the family room where they might get caught any moment in flagrante delicto. The lust and desire he'd been holding back in deference to Sara’s predicament began to swell deep in his gut and he let out a couple of uneven breaths as he leaned in to capture her mouth once more.

She drew him in, clawing at his back in an effort to hold him closer and Neal realized he was feeling more aroused than he'd felt in months. Sara had always been an adventurous spirit in the bedroom and although, like every married couple, they’d gone through periods of tedium and routine sex, they’d always shared an underlying passion which ignited every now and then, reminding them of the fire they still had in their bellies when it came to each other. That spontaneous lust and desire, however, had been sorely lacking since her attack and Neal had begun to wonder if they’d left that kind of unrestrained passion behind them for good.

Sara reached down to caress him, the feel of her hand drawing a soft whimper from Neal and she guided him in between her legs as he let out short, guttural groans, his hips immediately beginning to rock in and out in slow, repetitive motions.Although they’d been connecting for the last few weeks, there’d been none of the urgency Neal was now feeling and it took but a few moments for him to start to lose himself in Sara’s supple body, spurred on by the delicious noises she was making in his ear.

Despite his resolve to maintain some control over his body, he couldn't hold back and he began to increase the rhythm of his thrusting hips, his breathing intensifying at the overwhelming sensation of warmth he felt with every stroke.

Sara’s hands were on his back, then on his buttocks, caressing and squeezing, urging him to speed up even more and he wanted to, oh he wanted to, but he wondered just how long he’d be able to keep up the punishing pace before it was game over. Everything had escalated so quickly and he was feeling wonderfully out of control, none of that white bread, restrained lovemaking they'd been indulging in over the past few months.

Sara’s loud panting urged him on as he continued to drive in and out without inhibition, suddenly aware that if he wanted her to have an orgasm first, which he definitely did, he'd better slow the pace and help make that happen soon or he would find himself beating her to the finish line.

He manoeuvred himself onto one elbow, momentarily - and regrettably - slowing down his thrusts as he brought his hand down between her legs, Sara moaning and gyrating under his expert touch. 

‘No, don’t’ she whispered and Neal hesitated for a milli-second, wondering if he'd been reading the signals all wrong. Was she having some sort of horrible flashback from her attack?

Her face, when Neal glanced up to look at it, told a very different story. Her eyes were closed in pure rapture, her lips parted, her face relaxed and uninhibited with a look of shameless, unrestrained lust. 

‘Want you… so bad…’ she murmured as she grabbed for Neal’s hand, pulling it back up to wrap tightly around her back, urging him to keep moving resolutely inside her, harder and faster than before. Her arms returned to his back as she held him impossibly close, scratching and clawing, their bodies pressed so tightly together that even a sheet of paper wouldn't have fit between them.

He resumed the previous rhythm, his breathing off the charts as she urged him on, pantingand moaning his name over and over again, pleadingly, as if it was some sort of supplication. 

‘Neal… Neal…. come on baby… don't hold back’ she begged, her voice urgent and breathless.

‘B..but…’ Neal stammered. Despite what she was asking, he didn't want to leave her behind - although his body was fully on board with following her orders.

‘Feels so good… please…’ she managed to say, her voice shaky as he continued to rock into her relentlessly, fearlessly, urged on by the sound of her moans and her fingernails clawing at his back, no doubt leaving lovely red scratch marks, an image which just spurred him on. 

She heard him groan with each and every thrust and she wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, inviting him to drive in even deeper as he continued to rock in and out without restraint. 

Neal was completely out of control and she loved him like this, desperately aroused and totally uninhibited. She loved knowing that she could bring him to the point of no return with just the touch of her lips, the warmth of her body, the sound of her voice.

The moaning grew louder and more insistent and Neal began to swear under his laboured breath, a sure sign he was getting close as he teetered right on the edge. Sara pulled away just enough so she could see his flushed face as he prepared to let go, finally surrendering his body as his orgasm good over, full force. His eyes grew wide then closed tightly as his mouth opened in a silent scream and finally, she could feel him pulsating inside her, all control lost as he shuddered and let out a loud, primal grunt.

Silence slowly returned as Neal lay on top of Sara, completely and utterly spent, his skin clammy and his breathing uneven as she cradled him, a huge smile on her face and a look of total abandon on his.

‘There’s the Neal Caffrey I know and love. Where have you been, baby?’ she asked, her breath faltering as Neal grinned and pulled away to look at her face.

He shook his head, not quite believing what had just happened - the sense of urgency, the unrestrained passion, the absolute and total abandon, the ultimate relief. Every muscle in his body seemed to relax and he rolled off and let himself settle between his wife and the back of the couch, his arms still snuggly wrapped around her and his leg draped over hers.

He took a couple of steadying breaths. ‘I think we’re back.’

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Sara Ellis sat at her desk at Sterling Bosch on Friday morning with an ice pack tucked into the top edge of her pencil skirt, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. For all her concern for her fifty-six-year-old husband, she hadn't considered that _her_ aging body might also be in need of some TLC after their brief encounter from the previous night.

She cursed under her breath, her eyes rising to find Lydia Jordan standing in front of her, looking the picture of health despite the protruding baby bump under her perfectly pressed maternity dress.

‘Good morning’ Sara forced herself to say with a put-on smile.

‘If you say so…’ her underling replied with a frown.

Lydia was Sara’s top insurance investigator - had been for years - but more importantly, she was a good friend and the mother of Neal and Sara’s cherished goddaughter, little Beatrice Jordan, who would soon be called upon to be a big sister.

‘Don’t get snarky’ Sara said as she struggled to stand.

‘So what is this time? Moving furniture? Lifting boxes? Making out on the couch?’

Sara frowned and Lydia giggled. ‘You’re kidding! Sara, no offence girl but you _are_ …’

She was immediately cut off by her boss who did _not_ need to be reminded of the fact that she was now into her fifties - all those little aches and pains were more than enough of a reminder.

‘Never mind how old I am’ Sara grumbled as she looked her friend up and down. ‘How do you do it, anyway? You always look so fresh and well put together?’

Lydia gave her an innocent shrug and raised her eyebrows in response. ‘Well, there is that fifteen year age difference between us…’

‘Again! With the age thing!’ Sara complained as she made her way to the other side of her desk and perched herself on the edge, readjusting the ice pack. ‘Did you remember that we’re having that birthday dinner for Hope next Friday night?’

‘I did. And we’ll be there with bells on’ Lydia said as she grabbed for her phone. ‘Oh, I wanted to ask… which of these two bracelets do you think Hope would prefer?’ she asked as she brought up a couple of pictures.

Sara strained to take a peek, pointing immediately to a chunky silver bracelet with small turquoise stones. ‘Definitely, this one’ she said. ‘She loves anything turquoise.’

Lydia nodded and put her phone away, noticing a lingering smile on Sara’s lips. ‘What?’ she asked; she knew her friend all too well.

Sara glanced around the office and dropped her voice as if she was afraid of being overheard - although they were the only two people around. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before deciding to share the news Neal had confided in her a couple of nights before.

‘Don’t tell anybody but…. well…that’s not the only piece of jewelry Hope’s getting for her birthday’ she said, not so cryptically.

It took a second for her to clue in but Lydia’s face lit up and she touched Sara’s arm, jostling her and causing the older woman to flinch in discomfort. ‘You’re kidding!’ she all but screamed.

‘Shhhh! Keep it down. Hope does’t know.’

Lydia gave her boss an eye roll. ‘Well, unless she’s hiding under the desk…’ she said.

‘Don’t be such a smart ass’ Sara replied. ‘I just… well, I’m just really excited for her. Of course, they won’t get married for awhile, she wants to finish school first but… He’s a great guy, sensitive, sweet, loving, loyal…’

‘Sounds like you’re describing Neal’ Lydia commented.

Sara frowned as she thought about it. ‘You know, they look so different physically but you’re right… I guess it’s not surprising that Hope would fall in love with someone with the qualities she admires in her dad.’

‘So, is Neal freaking out?’ Lydia asked. She knew Neal all too well and when it came to his little girl, his sweet pea, well, all bets were off.

‘Surprisingly, no. He’s been pretty good about it. It helps that he knows Cam so well and he trusts him but hey, I can only imagine what he’ll be like when the big day finally arrives.’

There was a soft knock on the door and Sara’s assistant popped her head in. ‘Ms Ellis, they’re waiting for you in the conference room.’

WCWCWC

‘So, what happened anyway?’ Peter asked as he took in the sight of Neal, moving around the gallery ever so slowly, hand up against his lower back.

‘Nothing’ Neal lied with a scowl.

‘I told you Neal, you’re closer to sixty than fifty now… you have to adjust’ Peter said with a shrug, enjoying the sight of the great Neal Caffrey struggling just to take a few steps.

Neal’s scowl turned into a flat out glare. He hadn't wanted to rub it in, considering Peter’s struggle in the bedroom, but he was tempted to brag about his exploits from the night before just so he could retaliate.

‘Is Cam working today?’ Neal asked, taking the high road.

‘I gave him the day off. I’ve got one of the part-timers coming in in an hour. He said he had stuff to get ready before Hope gets here Sunday but he was pretty short on details.’

Neal nodded knowingly and Peter couldn't help but pick up on the small smile that graced his lips.

‘Is there something I should know?’ Peter asked.

Neal gave him a nonchalant shrug, not much of a deterrent. Truth was, he was dying to tell Peter what Cameron had confided in him a couple of days earlier.

‘Not really…’ Neal lied. That was more than enough to get Peter on the trail. He'd always been curious to begin with but when it involved his beloved goddaughter, Peter was relentless

Neal glanced around the gallery, just as Sara had done in her office and lowered his voice - something that was entirely unnecessary considering they were alone.

‘Cam’s going to propose to Hope’ he blurted out as Peter’s face lit up.

‘WHAT?!?’ Peter shouted, sounding every little bit like a gossipy old neighbour.

Neal nodded enthusiastically. ‘For her birthday.’

‘Holy shit!’ Peter added as the news sunk in.

‘He’s got the ring and everything’ Neal continued. ‘Showed it to me right here.’

‘Does Hope know?’ Peter asked, getting excited.

‘Nope. He’s giving her the ring for her birthday. Oh, by the way, you guys didn't forget that we’re having that dinner for her on Friday night, right?’

‘Do you think he’ll do it then?’ Peter asked, channelling his teenage girl persona.

‘I don’t know’ Neal admitted. ‘Her birthday is Wednesday so he might do it then.’

Peter’s face grew serious and his eyes met Neal’s. ‘Our little girl is getting married’ he said as Neal stared back, shock setting in.

The door opened, snapping the two men back to reality and there stood Cameron, fully aware that he’d walked in on something although he had no idea what, exactly.

‘Cameron!’ both men shouted as they stared, mouths agape at the new arrival.

‘I… I forgot my phone here last night’ Cam said, feeling like he’d just walked in on something that was none of his business when in fact, he’d just intruded on two grown men gossiping about his love life.

‘Sorry to interrupt…’ he mumbled as he made his way to the counter where he’d tucked his phone away.

‘No problem…’ the two men stuttered, guilt written all over their faces.

WCWCWC

Linda Bennett watched as the staff from the Amica Retirement Home buzzed around her, finishing up packing her room. She’d been a resident for almost eight years and truth be told, she’d made a few good friends along the way both amongst the residents and the staff.

‘We’re going to miss you, Mrs. Bennett’ the young woman said as she wrapped a pretty vase in some tissue paper.

‘So am I, Heather’ admitted Linda.

Moving was always stressful but at her age and in her condition, it was even more so. ‘But I’m going to live near my son and his family’ she added with a wistful smile.

‘Is this him?’ Heather asked as she picked up a framed photograph of a smiling family and sat on the edge of the bed, next to the old woman.

‘Yes, it is. His name is Neal. He’s an artist and he owns an art gallery - and an art school’ Linda said, proudly. ‘And this is his wife, Sara.’

‘She’s beautiful’ the young woman commented as she admired the redhead standing next to the good looking man.

‘And so kind. She’s a wonderful daughter-in-law’ Linda added as they sat staring at the family photograph.

‘These are my grandchildren’ she continued. ‘This is Hope, she’s turning twenty next week and she studies art at Carnegie Mellon. She’s an amazing painter. And this is Liam, he’s about to turn fifteen and he’s a star basketball player and a really sweet young man.’

Heather smiled as she listened to the woman she’d grown attached to over the past few years. She’d seen a marked change in her since her son had come back into her life the previous year; despite her declining health, there’d been a sparkle in Linda Bennett’s eyes that hadn’t been there before.

‘And what about this one?’ she asked, pointing to Caitlin who sat proudly with her arms around Raffie.

‘Ah, that’s Caitlin, my special girl’ Linda commented with a smile. ‘She’s an artist too, a sculptor, and she loves young kids.’

Heather smiled as she took the framed photograph and proceeded to wrap it in some protective bubble wrap.

‘It sounds like you’re in good hands, Mrs. Bennett’ the young woman said as she gently touched her arm.

‘That, I am’ Linda said with glowing smile.

WCWCWC

Hope sat on the train on Sunday morning, looking out at the barren fields as she exited Pittsburgh on her way home. Despite the dreary day, her heart was light as she thought of all the smiling faces waiting for her at the other end. Spring had been late in coming and there were still some patches of snow from the last storm which had hit the previous week. She stared out as precipitation continued to fall in a mixture of rain, wet snow and freezing drizzle but none of that seemed to matter. Cam would be waiting for her at the train station and she had a whole week of visiting with friends and family before returning to face her final exams.

Although it was called a study break, every student knew it was a chance to relax and enjoy some free time before the final sprint. She thought ahead to the summer when she’d be moving back to New York to work at the gallery and the art school alongside her wonderful dad and amazing boyfriend. The last time she’d been home, over the Christmas holidays, she had finally realized that Cam was the one, the only one she could possibly imagine her future with. During a couple of breaks, she had dated some guys she’d met at university but she’d found herself constantly comparing them to the young man back home - and none of them had ever measured up.

Cameron Armstrong was quiet and unassuming - her complete opposite. She was fiery and determined as well as outspoken and she never hesitated to call a spade a spade, not unlike her mom whom she held in the highest regard for all she’d accomplished and the hardships she’d overcome. Cam was soft spoken and discreet yet kind, loving and sweet - and so very funny, something Hope found sexy above all else. She loved him for the way he brought balance into her life and kept her sane. She remembered her mom confiding in her about her feelings for her dad; how, despite the fact that she would have been perfectly capable of going it alone, he somehow made her a better version of herself. That, in a nutshell, was how she saw Cameron Armstrong, as the yin to her yang, the…

She thought of her dad, her hero. He’d taught her everything he knew about culture, the arts and yet his legacy to her was so much more than that, it was centred around how to overcome strife to succeed in life. He’d come from humble beginnings and had made some terrible choices early in life and yet, he’d never stopped seeing the good in people and he’d managed to work things out and become a role model for her and her baby brother. Someday, with any luck, she’d be someone’s mom and she could only hope to be half the parent her mom and dad had been to her.

She let her head fall back on the headrest, sleep claiming her as she thought of her young man waiting for her miles away.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Sunday dinner in the Caffrey home was usually a low key affair, although Neal usually tried to make an effort with a more elaborate menu before they returned to their busy work week. On this second to last Sunday in March however, excitement was definitely in the air as Neal and Sara prepared for additional dinner guests and for Linda Bennett’s arrival the very next day.

Neal had set the table in the dining room in order to accommodate the larger number of guests:Hope and Cameron, Liam, Caitlin, Peter and Elizabeth and Mozzie, who, although he hadn't confirmed his presence, would most likely show up just as the meal was being put on the table, if past experience was any indication.

Hope hadn't yet made an appearance, having arrived on the two o’clock train and gone straight over to Cam’s place where she would be staying for most of the week. She’d texted her dad, telling him she’d arrived safely and that she was excited about coming home for dinner… and was there any chance of some pineapple upside down cake for dessert.

Liam was busy up in his room doing homework and Caitlin was sitting in the family room, glued to her computer while Sara and Neal busied themselves in the kitchen, getting an early start on dinner.

Sara glanced over at Caitlin, making sure she wasn’t listening before she elbowed Neal in order to get his attention.

‘Do you think he’s going to pop the question _today_?’ she asked, her voice quiet.

Neal gave her the evil eye. ‘Would you please?’ he whispered loudly. ‘I knew I shouldn't have told you…’

Sara glared at her husband.‘What do you mean you _shouldn't_ have told me! This is my _daughter_ getting engaged!’ she countered, outraged.

Neal shook his head in dismay. Cameron had confided in him about the impending proposal and it seemed wrong that people around them were finding out before Cam even had the chance to pop the question.

‘I didn’t mean that…’ Neal said, thinking better of his previous comment. He and Sara _had_ no secrets, especially when it came to their kids. ‘I just… I feel bad that other people know when Hope doesn't even know.’

‘Other people?’ Sara repeated with a frown. ‘ _What_ other people?’

Neal just looked away guiltily as Sara glared at him. ‘What did you do, Caffrey? Who did you tell?’

Neal groaned, feeling trapped by the very direct question. He hadn't meant to share Cameron’s big news but truth was, he was so excited, he was bursting to tell the whole world.

‘I _might_ have mentioned it… to Peter’ he admitted as Sara stared unblinkingly, tapping her foot and waiting for more - with Neal, there was always more.

‘And then… well, Olivia called to ask when Hope was coming home and I… I kind of…’

‘Neal! You’re kidding!’ Sara scolded, trying to keep her voice down. ‘That means that Jeff and Donna know too.’

Neal let out an exasperated sigh. ‘And then, Sam dropped off those supplies I’d ordered for the school and he asked how Hope was doing…and one thing led to another…’

Sara’s face grew more annoyed as Neal continued, trying to soft-pedal. In his experience, a well-timed compliment was always the way to go in a situation like this.

He gave her an unsuccessful eye flutter as he spoke. ‘You’ve always been a _lot_ better at keeping secrets than I have’ he said.

‘That is _so_ not true, Caffrey’ she countered, her voice growing louder. She glanced over at Caitlin, seeing the teen was immersed with whatever was on her computer screen.

She took a breath and lowered her voice before continuing. ‘You kept a whole U-boat treasure from me for weeks!’ she whispered, dredging up the long ago deception - something she always kept up her sleeve for occasions just like this one.

Neal looked away furtively, pretending to check on the cake in the oven. Sara, however, wasn't quite done with scolding him. 

‘I swear… in your old age, you’re turning into a gossipy old biddy’ she mumbled, adding fuel to fire, just for good measure.

‘Oh, because you’re the soul of discretion and you haven't said a word to anyone’ he challenged as he watched her face fall.

‘I knew it!’ he whispered loudly, feeling totally vindicated. 

‘Who did you tell?’ he demanded, challenging her.

‘Well… I met Elizabeth for lunch yesterday and, well, she _is_ Hope’s godmother and… then, Lydia sort of wormed it out of me…’ she admitted as Neal scoffed.

‘ _Wormed it out of you_?…’ he repeated with a sneer, using air quotes for emphasis.

‘Talk about the pot calling the kettle black’ he mumbled, not quite done with reading her the riot act.

‘And is _that_ it?’ he added as he watched his wife’s face for any further deception.

Sara avoided his eyes and Neal put down the knife he’d been using to cut up some carrots. He turned to look straight at her and waited for her to come clean.

‘Sara?’ he said expectantly as she tried to wriggle her way out.

‘Well… your mom called this morning and…’

‘Sara!’ Neal said a little too loudly. He glanced over in Caitlin’s direction, noticing her staring back at them, obviously curious as they continued to argue in loud whispers.

‘She’s family, Neal!’ Sara countered, trying to keep her voice down.

‘Great! It’s official! Cam’s going to kill me’ Neal said, returning to the cutting board. ‘I’ve totally ruined their engagement.’

‘Aww, Neal, don't be like that…’ Sara whined as she placed a hand on his arm. ‘I’m sure we can all be discreet and keep quiet…’

‘Keep quiet about what?’ Caitlin asked as she suddenly appeared before them.

She watched her foster parents guiltily eyeing each other and her curiosity was further piqued. For some reason that defied explanation, she read the badly kept secret on their faces and suddenly the words were spilling out just as Liam made an appearance, looking for something to eat.

‘Cam’s going to ask Hope to marry him, isn't he?’ Caitlin blurted out, totally out of the blue.

The look on Neal and Sara’s faces said it all as the teenager let out a loud squeal.

‘What?!’ Liam added, totally taken by surprise.

Neal attempted the save, albeit very poorly.‘It’s not… it’s not like that…’ he attempted as he realized they were busted.

‘Holy shit!’ Liam shouted as Sara gave him an admonishing look.

‘Look, this is about Hope and Cameron, not us. We have to keep quiet and let Cameron do this his way. Is that understood?’ Neal declared, suddenly virtuous.

They all stared back, hand over their lips, giving a little twist, signalling it was in the vault.

‘Our lips are sealed’ they all said in unison.

WCWCWC

‘This is soooo exciting!’ Elizabeth said as she helped Sara and Caitlin in the kitchen.

‘El!’ Sara said, her voice a warning. ‘It’s not for a few years yet and until Hope and Cam make the announcement, we have to keep things to ourselves.’

‘Of course, of course’ El said, nodding, although Sara could see the excitement dancing in her eyes. ‘Do you think she’ll let me plan the wedding? You know, we could model it off of your…’

‘Elizabeth! Seriously!’ Sara interrupted. ‘Look, for some reason, the word’s gotten out and Neal feels terrible about it. Let’s just wait until the kids tell us their news before we start picking out china patterns.’

‘You’re right, you’re right’ Elizabeth said, nodding in agreement although Sara could see her mentally choosing the flowers for the bouquet and the cake topping.

‘If we slip up… well, how would you like it if everybody knew Peter was going to propose and you didn't have a clue?’ Sara asked as she opened the refrigerator door and grabbed for the butter.

‘How _did_ Mr. Burke propose?’ Caitlin asked, suddenly curious.

‘Actually, I’m the one who proposed to Peter, in the end.’

Sara looked up in surprise. ‘What?’

‘He had the ring box in his pocket and he was _so_ nervous and I finally just pointed to the huge bulge in his jacket and I asked him if that was for me.’

Sara and Caitlin laughed. Sara had never heard the story before but she could certainly imagine Elizabeth highjacking Peter Burke’s big moment.

‘His face got red and he started hyperventilating and I just took pity on him. I finally got down on one knee in the middle of the restaurant and asked him if he’d marry me’ Elizabeth recounted with a smile.

Sara shook her head in wonder - only Elizabeth Burke.

‘What about you and Mr. C?’ Caitlin asked, starry eyed with her elbows planted on the kitchen island.

‘I thought I told you that story already’ Sara said, looking embarrassed.

‘No you haven’t! Caitlin argued. ‘Come on, tell it again’ Elizabeth urged.

‘It’s silly’ Sara said, suddenly reluctant to be sharing such a private moment - although it was as clear as if it had happened the day before.

‘What’s silly?’ Neal asked as he came in, followed by Peter and Liam.

‘We’re just sharing wedding proposal stories’ El said as Neal took a couple of beers out of the fridge and handed one to Peter.

‘Oh honey, you didn’t…’ Peter began as Sara laughed.

‘Afraid so, Peter, you’re busted’ Sara said as Peter appeared beyond mortified.

‘Come on Sara. Stop stalling’ Caitlin said.

From the moment she’d walked into the Caffrey house, Caitlin had been fascinated by Neal and Sara’s relationship: the friendly ribbing, the good-natured teasing, the underlying respect they had for one another, the passion they couldn't hide. Some nights when things were really quiet in the house, she could hear the hushed sounds coming from their bedroom and she hoped someday she might be lucky enough to find her soul mate just as they’d found each other.

‘Well…’ Neal began. ‘Sara was eight months pregnant at the time and she was huuuuuge’ he said with a wide smile.

‘Here we go…’ Sara moaned.

Neal came to stand behind her, his arms around her waist as everyone waited for the rest of the story. Liam had heard it before but it differed slightly each time as recounted events often did with the passage of time.

‘And she was beautiful, so beautiful…’ Neal continued as he reached around to kiss Sara’s cheek.

‘She was wearing this gorgeous royal blue maternity dress…’ he recalled as Sara smiled, obviously remembering.

‘I remember that dress’ Elizabeth interrupted.

‘And we were having Chinese food in my apartment at June’s’ Neal said as he got a faraway look in his eyes.

Sara spoke up as the memories flooded back. ’Neal had ordered the same exact food we’d had the very first time we had dinner together on the roof of the FBI.’

Caitlin frowned; she’d have to remember to ask about more details later.

‘And we were discussing whether or not we should each live in our own place after the baby was born…’ Sara said wistfully.

‘ _You_ were discussing. I knew that I could never live without you by my side’ Neal corrected as he continued to hold her, swaying her from side to side.

‘And then, Neal hands me a fortune cookie and tells me to open it because, well… that’s another story’ Sara said. ‘So I crack open the cookie and I unwrap the fortune and by the time I look up, there’s Neal sitting across from me holding a tiny blue box with this beautiful ring.’

Neal reached for her hand, admiring the diamond and emerald ring he’d bought twenty years earlier. It sparkled on Sara’s finger as if it was brand new.

‘And I think he said something like… ‘ _Sara, you’re killing me here’_ … because I was still staring at the tiny piece of paper.’

‘What did it say?’ Caitlin asked, eyes sparkling.

Sara turned to look at Neal and they shared a kiss as he replied. ‘Four little words… will you marry me?’

He’d barely gotten the words out when a ruckus was heard at the front of the house and Raffie let out a warning bark that there were new arrivals. Hope’s voice wafted through the house as everyone ran out to greet her.

‘I’m home!’

WCWCWC

Miraculously, the group made it though dinner without anyone making any inappropriate comments although everyone’s eyes seemed glued to the young couple who sat side by side, holding hands and exchanging knowing looks. Cameron had obviously decided on the time and place for his proposal and by all appearances, it hadn't been the moment Hope had stepped off the train.

Neal and Sara breathed a sigh of relief as the guests finally left, relieved that their indiscretions hadn't led to any leaks and more eager than ever for Hope and Cameron to finally make their big announcement. Neal was exhausted from all the preparations for his mom and Sara sent him up to bed while she finished tidying up the kitchen. She finally made her way upstairs, just past 11:00.

‘Goodnight Caitlin’ she called out as she walked past the teen’s bedroom on her way to bed.

Despite the fact that the light was on, she didn't get a response so Sara poked her head in the door to find the young girl curled up in bed with a book.

‘Are you okay?’ Sara asked as she stepped in and took a seat on the edge of the bed. ‘You’ve been quiet all night.’

Caitlin just stared back and Sara noticed that her eyes were red. ‘You’re not coming down with something, are you?’ she asked as she touched her forehead.

Caitlin shook her head. ‘No’ she answered simply.

‘Well, what is it? What’s wrong?’ Sara asked, growing worried.

Caitlin didn't show her emotions very easily; much like Neal, who had used charm and his silver tongue to camouflage his true feelings, Caitlin tended to mask her emotions with humour and biting sarcasm. It was obvious something was on the teen’s mind and Sara wasn't about to let it go until Caitlin came clean.

‘Honey, you can tell me anything… you know that’ she said as she watched Caitlin’s crestfallen face.

‘I found out my mom’s out of jail again and Social Services is going to let her see me’ she admitted, her face worried.

Sara watched as Caitlin’s bright blue eyes peeked out from under her blond bangs. ‘And how do you feel about that?’ she asked.

Caitlin gave a non-committal shrug as her eyes fell to her lap, not wanting Sara to see the tears that were beginning to form there.

‘Well, you don't have to decide tonight’ Sara said, her voice reassuring. ‘And you don't have to do anything you don't want to. You’re sixteen and the court isn't going to _force_ you to see your mom if you don't want to.’

‘I guess…’ the teen answered. ‘I just don't know what I want.’

Sara studied the young girl’s face. Her arrival in the Caffrey home had totally altered their family dynamics and some days, she and Neal were ready to rip their hair out as they struggled to cope with all her antics. But, deep down, she was just a confused young girl trying to find her way in the world and Sara had to admit, she had grown fond of her over time.

Sara slipped up on the bed and sat up against the headboard, putting her arm around the young girl and feeling her melt at her loving touch. Caitlin hadn't been nurtured much in her young life and she still resisted any attempt at affection although Sara knew it was what she craved most of all.

‘Will you and Mr. C be angry if I see her?’ she asked.

‘Of course not, sweetie. You just need to decide for yourself what you want and we’ll stand by you, no matter what’ Sara said as she deposited a kiss on the teen’s blond head.

‘Sara?’ Caitlin whispered.

‘Yes honey.’

‘Will you stay with me for a little while… until I fall asleep?’

Sara kicked off her shoes and slipped in under the blankets, curling up against her foster daughter. ‘Of course I will. I’ll stay as long as you need me.’

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Neal was up bright and early on Monday morning and he drove himself out to Flushing to pick up Hope at Cameron’s apartment. Linda Bennett’s personal effects had arrived in New York late Sunday evening and Hope had volunteered to help her dad set everything up at the Blue Skies Nursing Home in preparation for her grandmother’s arrival on an afternoon flight from St. Louis.

They hadn't spent more than a few minutes alone together since Hope had arrived the day before and Neal was looking forward to spending some quality time with his daughter. As soon as she stepped into the car, the first thing Neal did was to not so discretely glance at Hope’s left hand for any sign of the beautiful ring he’d gotten a glimpse of the week before - but her finger lay bare, to Neal’s disappointment.

‘Hey, sweet pea, thanks for doing this with me’ he said as he pointed the car towards New Rochelle.

‘Glad to help Dad. Cam’s working all day anyway so… I might as well make myself useful.’

‘Well, I’m hoping to get most of her things unpacked so she’ll feel more at home when she finally gets here’ Neal said, eyes glued to the road.

‘Dad, I think what you’re doing is great… bringing Grandma here.’

Neal shrugged. ‘Well, it was _that_ … or buying shares in American Airlines’ he said with a grin.

‘I’m serious’ Hope giggled. ‘I’m sure it means a lot to her to be close to you and Mom.’

‘Well, that works both ways. I’m going to love having her nearby’ Neal said with a sad smile. ‘You know, the doctors are saying she might not have much time left.’

Hope touched her dad’s arm and squeezed. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. You’ve already lost Grandma June… it seems cruel to have to go through this again.’

Neal smiled wistfully. ‘Well, I guess that means I’ve been _doubly_ lucky, huh? I had June all those years while you guys were little and now… I’m reunited with my mom.’

Hope studied her dad’s face. He was getting older, too. Now that she was away at school for months at a time, she’d become more aware of those subtle signs of aging in her dad; his greying temples, the way he moved just a little bit more carefully, the wrinkles that formed around his eyes when he smiled, all small signs that he wasn't getting any younger. Of course, in _her_ eyes, he was still her big strapping dad who could do just about anything but as she grew older, she was aware that her parents wouldn't _always_ be there; someday, in the very distant future - she hoped - they would both be gone. She snapped out of the morbid thought, aware that Neal was staring at her.

‘You okay?’ he asked. ‘You look like you’re a million miles away.’

‘Just thinking ahead to the future’ she said with a nostalgic smile.

‘Oh yeah? And what do you see in your crystal ball?’ her asked, on a fishing expedition.

‘Just many more years for us, Daddy’ she said as she hugged his arm.

‘I’ll second that’ Neal added.

WCWCWC

Peter Burke lay on his back, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. He watched as his wife stepped back into the bedroom, towel wrapped around her as she began to buzz around the room, getting ready for work.

‘You know, honey. _You_ might be able to make your own hours at the gallery, but I have a job to go to. I can’t lie around all day’ she said as she frantically searched through the closet for something to wear.

‘You can’t blame me for basking in the afterglow. That was quite the performance if you don't mind my saying so’ Peter said as he rolled onto his side to admire his wife.

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed and prepared to put on her stockings. She leaned over and gently kissed her husband, giving him a conspiratorial wink. ‘You’re right, honey. That _was_ amazing.’

Peter grinned from ear to ear as he tried to pull his wife back into bed. ‘Maybe I can give you a repeat performance’ he whispered suggestively as she pulled away.

‘As nice as that sounds, I’ve got a client coming in at 9:00 so I need to get going’ she said as she pulled on a sweater and skirt while Peter continued to stare at her with a wide grin.

Although it wasn't all that important to _her_ , she knew that for Peter, it had been a big deal to have managed to perform and she stopped on her way out and, taking a moment to sit beside him as she let her hand slide up his bare chest.

‘Honey, I’m happy if you’re happy’ she said as she leaned in to kiss his smiling lips. ‘But I don't need anything but you… healthy.’

Peter’s smile faded a little as he realized he might be putting a little too much emphasis on the wonderful sex they’d just shared. ‘Thanks honey. I love you, too.’

WCWCWC

‘Look at this one, Dad. Liam is sooooo cute!’ Hope said as she placed the framed photograph on the bedside table.

Neal glanced over at the picture of a newborn Liam in his big sister’s arms as a faraway memory came into focus. ‘You know, one night, your mom and I went up to check on Liam and we found the two of you asleep in his crib together.’

‘What? No way!’ Hope said as she sat on the edge of the bed to study the photograph.

‘It’s true. Mom says you went in to give him his soother and I guess you must have climbed in and fallen asleep. I think we have a picture of the two of you curled up together, somewhere in those endless boxes of photographs…’ Neal added with a soft laugh.

‘Well, I don't remember ever seeing it’ Hope replied although she had a very vague recollection of the incident Neal had just recounted.

‘Here’s one of you with Mom on the day you were born’ Neal commented as he stared at the framed picture. ‘It seems like just yesterday….’

Hope moved in closer, hand on her dad’s shoulder. ‘Oh my God! I was so little.’

Neal turned and faced his little girl, not so little anymore and yet he could still see the same bright look in her eyes as the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her. She was the apple of his eye, his pride and joy and he thought back to the last twenty years of watching her grow and evolve into this amazing young woman he was so proud of.

‘You know I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished’ he said, his voice tight.

‘Dad! Stop it!’ she whined.

‘It’s true. You’ve become a strong, resilient, beautiful young woman right before my eyes and sometimes…’ Neal said as his voice got a little shaky. ‘Well, sometimes, I just can't quite believe it’s been twenty years since I first held you in my arms.’

Hope smiled at her dad and poked him in the arm, trying to snap him out of the nostalgia. ‘Dad! You’re not getting all mushy on me, are you?’

Neal returned to the closet where he’d been hanging up some of his mom’s clothes. ‘And what if I am’ he said as he pulled his eyes away. ‘You know, you’ve never given me and your mom a day’s worry in all those years.’

Hope let out a loud snort and Neal turned to face her again, noticing her laughing. ‘As if… Dad, you seem to be forgetting the time I forged your signature on my test paper… oh, and what about the time I locked myself in the bathroom because you wouldn't let me have a second helping of ice cream…’

She could hear Neal snickering at the memories as she continued with the litany of her wrongdoings ‘…oh, and then there’s the time I ran away from home - well, all the way to the end of the driveway, anyway.’

Neal smiled at the recollection. ‘… it was cold that night and it was pouring rain and I remember watching you stop all of a sudden and turn back, stomping into the house with that defiant look on your face…’

‘Well, I’d accidentally put on mom’s rain boots instead of mine and my feet kept slipping out …’ Hope recalled.

Neal picked up the story. ‘All it took was the offer of a mug of hot chocolate to make you change your mind and decide that you didn't want to run away after all.’

Neal turned to face his daughter and he ran his hand over her thick, wavy hair, watching as her eyes sparkled.

‘And the day after tomorrow, you’re turning twenty years old. Wow!’ he said as she grinned.

He shook off the nostalgia and let his hand fall, catching hers and smiling that smile that made his eyes crinkle. ‘So, do you have any special plans with Cam for your birthday?’ he asked.

‘I’m not sure. He’s being very secretive. I think he wants to take me out to dinner but I’m just going with the flow. Whatever he wants to do is fine with me.’

They returned to the unpacking, the conversation flowing easily between them, as it always did.

‘So, are you spending all your nights over at Cam’s or do you think you might grace us with your presence for a couple of nights. You know, you have a perfectly good room at home’ Neal not so subtly hinted.

‘I was thinking you might invite me back for dinner after we pick up Grandma and I could sleep in my old room tonight’ Hope said.

She watched as Neal grimaced. ‘What?’

‘Nothing… I just hate it when you call it your ‘old room’.I think of it as _your_ room and you just happen to be away for a little while visiting Pittsburgh’ Neal admitted.

Hope laughed and gave her dad a sweet kiss on the cheek. ‘Whatever works for you, Dad!’ she said.

WCWCWC

By the time Hope and Neal left New Rochelle to head out to La Guardia, Linda Bennett’s room was looking warm and inviting.All her clothes had been hung in her new walk-in closet, all her possessions displayed around her room including a vase she had particular affection for, whichNeal had filled with beautiful blooms and set right by her bed. Moving to a new facility and leaving everything she’d known behind wouldn't be easy and Neal was determined to remain nearby and make sure his mom got used to her new surroundings.

It wasn't surprising that Linda was exhausted by the time her plane landed; it was a lot for an eighty-year-old woman who’s health was on the decline. They got her settled in the car and drove back to Blue Skies Nursing Home, where staff were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their newest resident. Neal observed his mom’s face as they drove up, noticing her eyes growing at the sight of the place, it’s sprawling gardens and beautiful architecture.

Within minutes, she was being wheeled into her new room, obviously pleased at finding all her personal possessions laid out for her.

‘Oh Neal! You shouldn't have’ she said as Neal grinned. ‘It already feels like home.’

‘And the flowers… I love them’ she added as her voice became shaky, overcome by emotion.

Neal crouched down to face his mom, noticing the tears in her eyes. ‘You’re home, Mom’ he said as he ran his hand down her arm. ‘I really hope you’re going to like it here.’

‘I already do, honey. Thank you so much for making this happen.’

‘Now…’ Neal said as he helped her stand and move to the large chair by the bed. ‘Do you want to rest for a while? Sara was really hoping you’d come to the house for dinner tonight.’

Linda let out a long, tired sigh. ‘Oh, Neal, I’d love to but… do you think we can do it later this week? I am so tired, I’m afraid I wouldn't be very good company.’

Neal tried to hide his disappointment. He’d been waiting for months to have his mom nearby and he’d conjured up this fantasy of her coming over to the house, having dinner with the family at the drop of a hat.

‘Whatever you want, Mom’ he said with a smile. ‘I know the nurse wants to check you out, so… why don't we let you rest up for today and I’ll check with you tomorrow?’

‘And I’m here for the week so I can come visit with Cameron, if that’s okay’ Hope added as her grandmother nodded, eyes drooping.

Neal stood and prepared to leave. ‘And if I don't find a way to bring Caitlin over in the next couple of days, she’s going to self-combust’ he joked as Linda gave him an exhausted smile.

‘Oh, and Mom, one more thing. The cable’s all set up and here’s your remote… and the phone’s connected’ he said as he picked up the receiver. ‘I’ve programmed our home number and Sara’s work as well as the gallery and the art school… and see here’ he pointed ‘…that’s both our cell phones so that way, you can always reach us.’

Linda took the phone from his hand and placed it in her lap. ‘There…’ she said, feeling the need to reassure him ‘…I’ll keep it right here.’

She watched her son’s eyes, seeing the look of worry there. ‘Maybe I can phone you before I turn in and I can speak to Sara’ the elderly woman added.

‘I think she’d like that’ Neal said as he bent down to place a kiss on his mom’s cheek.

‘Goodnight Grandma’ Hope added as she did the same.

Neal gave one last longing look before leaving the room, noticing his mom’s eyes already drifting shut and he felt Hope’s hand on his arm, pulling him along.

‘Come on, Dad. She’ll be fine’ she whispered.

And suddenly, the child had become the parent.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

‘Still no word from Hope?’ Sara asked cryptically as she grabbed a cup from the kitchen cupboard.

‘Nada… but tomorrow’s her big day. I’m betting he’s going to spring it on her then’ Neal said, barely looking up from the papers that were laid out in front of him.

‘Staff meeting?’ she asked, spying what was spread out around the table.

‘I’ve got that new teacher starting today and I called a meeting first thing this morning to welcome her. Oh, and don't forget I’m taking Caitlin over to visit my mom after school today’ he added as he began to collect his things.

‘Have you managed to talk your mom into coming over for dinner tonight?’ Sara asked.

‘She says she’s up for it so I took a lasagna out of the freezer. Can you…’ he began, as he pointed towards the refrigerator. He watched as his wife made her way over to kiss him goodbye.

‘I’ve got you covered, Caffrey’ she said as she laced her arms around his neck and deposited a gentle kiss on his lips.

‘What have _you_ got on today?’ Neal asked, staring into her deep green eyes, hands moving to cradle her hips.

‘Same old, same old’ she responded. ‘But don't worry, I’ll be home in plenty of time and I’ll have dinner on the table when you guys get back here with your mom.’

‘Thanks!’ Neal said as he pulled away, sensing Sara wasn't quite ready to let him go. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘I was just remembering… twenty years ago, I was kissing you goodbye… you were still on anklet, working with Peter and… well, the next time we saw each other after that was at the hospital… and it hasn't been _just the two of us_ ever since that day’ Sara said as the memories came flooding back.

Neal’s face lit up at the memory. ‘Twenty years…’ he said as he shook his head. ‘… it seems like just yesterday, huh Repo?’

‘So much has happened in that time’ she agreed as she ran her hand gently down his cheek. ‘And you know what, I wouldn't change a _single_ thing.’

‘Neither would I’ Neal whispered as he brought his lips to hers. ‘Neither would I.’

WCWCWC

The breakup with Cody had been more than amicable but that didn't mean it didn't sting every single time Liam spotted his ex at school - which was all frequent, it seemed. 

Young Caffrey had been sitting in the atrium during the busy lunch break on Tuesday, surrounded by his best friend, Will Allenby, and a bunch of guys from the basketball team, when he spied Cody Miller across the busy room. As usual, Cody was surrounded by a bunch of students from the Gay Straight Alliance; wherever Cody went, his entourage seemed to follow. He was a very popular guy at White Plains District High, well liked and respected as leader of the school’s LGBT community and Liam had been noticing that, since their breakup a few weeks earlier, their mutual friend Aaron Lindstrom had been constantly by Cody’s side. Liam watched from a distance as the group around Cody disbanded, leaving the two young men alone and he couldn't help but notice how close together they were standing, Aaron’s hand on Cody’s arm as they both laughed.

He knew his dad was right. He’d eventually meet someone else and life would go on but Liam couldn't imagine getting the butterflies currently fluttering around his stomach for anyone _but_ Cody Miller. It had taken a while for Liam to realize that his attraction to the young man hadn't been just admiration for his bright mind and great sense of humour Those butterflies had led him to the irrefutable conclusion that he wasn't like ninety percent of the guys he hung around with - finally, an explanation for why he wasn't attracted to the young girls who kept batting their eyelashes at him.

For the longest time, Liam had wondered _why_ he didn't feel about girls the way Will described feeling whenever his girlfriend, Josie, was around. Cody’s presence in his life and the young man’s unabashed pride in being out had helped Liam come to terms with his own sexuality and he'd felt free from the shackles of confusion and secrecy ever since. It helped having friends who were accepting of who he was and who treated him as they always had, beginning with Will whose relationship with Liam hadn't changed one iota since Liam had come out. His parents hadn't batted an eye when he'd finally told them although they’d suspected the badly kept secret for much longer than they’d admitted to him. And they’d welcomed Cody into their extended family the same way they'd welcomed Hope’s boyfriend just a few years earlier.

But despite the acceptance and loving support, it still wasn't easy being part of a minority of any kind, especially in high school, where everybody strived just to be part of the gang.

‘Caffrey!’ Will said, poking Liam in the arm. ‘Are you in or not?’

‘What?’ Liam asked, his attention returning to the group of guys around him.

‘We’re going over to Flo’s for fries and cokes after school. Are you in or out?’ Will repeated as he tracked Liam’s eyes and figured out what the problem was.

‘Yeah, yeah’ Liam answered without much conviction.

Young love… young _unrequited_ love… it was the worst possible kind of hell.

WCWCWC

‘Now, don't go bouncing off the walls when we get in there!’ Neal warned as they pulled the car into the parking lot of the Blue Skies Nursing Home.

‘What do you mean?’ Caitlin whined, unappreciative of her foster dad’s comment.

‘I just mean… you have a _lot_ of energy and Grandma… well, she doesn’t, so you have to tone down the enthusiasm just a little, all right?’ he corrected, fearful he'd been a little harsh in his earlier comment.

Caitlin looked down, cradling a bag Neal had been curious about ever since he'd picked her up as school. ‘So, are you going to tell me what you've got in there?’

‘Just a little something I made for Grandma at the art school’ she said, her smile returning.

‘Oh, yeah? What’s that?’ he asked, unable to stop himself from asking.

Caitlin’s bright blue eyes returned to the bag in her lap, carefully removing the bubble wrap as Neal watched with interest. She was a very talented sculptor and she had an amazing imagination to boot - a wonderful combination that would take her far in life, if she didn't manage to screw it up somehow.

‘Wow!’ he said as he admired her latest piece.

‘She says it all the time’ she commented as Neal nodded.

He’d hear his mom quote the inspirational phrase on occasion, she’d once confided in him that it had been instrumental in getting her through the first few months of sobriety.

‘You’re right. I’ve heard her say it’ he said as he examined the small sculpture in the form of an open book with the quote ‘ _A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’_ written in.

‘How did you get the sheet of paper to curl up that way?’ he asked, admiring her innovative technique.

‘I prepared it ahead of time and placed it on the piece for the last half hour in the kiln’ she explained as Neal stared in admiration.

‘Well done, Caitlin’ he said as he handed it over for her to wrap up once again. ‘She’s going to love it.’

He knew he was way too hard on the young teen and moments like this served to remind Neal that she was justa lost, wayward soul trying to find her place in the world and contribute somehow to making it a better place. Too often, he was disappointed in her when she strayed. More than anything, Neal wanted her to succeed in life and not be forced to take the long, convoluted road he'd ended up taking on his trek to the wonderful life he now lived.

‘I heard about your mom…’ he ventured as her eyes darkened. ‘Sara told me.’

She sat in silence.

‘Have you decided what you’d like to do about it?’ he asked, leaning in to look at her.

Caitlin’s shoulders rose and fell again and suddenly Neal’s arm was around her back as he pulled her in a little closer. ‘You know, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do and you certainly don't have to worry about what Sara and I are going to think… or say. This is about you, Caitlin.’

Her eyes rose to meet his and he could see tears threatening. It had taken him over forty years to make peace with the anger and resentment he'd felt towards his mom and Caitlin had a right to her own journey in that respect - without interference on his part.

‘What do _you_ think I should do?’ came the question, taking Neal totally by surprise.

He took a deep breath, realizing that his words might weigh heavily in her decision and suddenly not wanting to have that responsibility. He’d made horrible choices in his life. What made him think he could possibly offer any insightful advice when he, himself, had struggled to make the right decision where his own mom was concerned?

‘I think you should listen to your heart’ he finally said. ‘It’s seldom wrong.’

‘But she’s my mom….’ Caitlin said, obviously torn about doing the right thing.

‘She is… and she’ll always be a part of who you are. But you’re sixteen years old and you’re old enough to decide who _you_ want to let into your life. That decision belongs to you and only you’ Neal said as he watched the tears roll down her cheek. 

He leaned in and wiped a tear, giving her a small smile. ‘I have faith in you, Caitlin. I know you’ll do what’s best for you.’

She responded with a sad smile of her own and pulled away leading Neal to the conclusion that the moment was over. He placed his hand on the car door and glanced back at her.

‘You ready to go in?’

WCWCWC

‘So, do you want to hang out this weekend?’ Will asked as the two young men made their way home on foot.

‘Sure’ Liam answered with a shrug; he’d always been a man of few words.

‘Look, I know it’s not easy… this thing with Cody’ Will added as they meandered up the street.

Liam remained quiet, unsure what to say.

‘You know you _can_ talk to me about it… I’ll listen’ Will added. ‘I _do_ know what it’s like to like someone and have them not like you back. Remember Jessica whatshername in grade 5?’

Liam scoffed at he recalled the quiet, unassuming redhead Will had pined over for most of the school year.

Will stopped for a moment before continuing. ‘I know it’s the same thing with you and Cody… you don't have to feel weird about talking to me about it.’

Will Allenby had been Liam’s best friend since grade school. Over the years, they’d shared a love of sports and a particular fondness for basketball, a sport they both excelled at.Will was the chatty one, the outgoing, rowdy one in contrast to Liam’s more reserved, quiet demeanour. Contrary to Liam, who had a loving, caring family, the young man had always had a rough home life and he envied Liam for having the kind of family life he'd always dreamed of having. Whenever Will had the chance, he loved hanging out at the Caffrey house, watching Liam’s parents teasing each other, observing the obvious respect they had for one another, the unfaltering love they had for their kids.

For as long as Will could remember, his parents had been at loggerheads, arguing, fighting, disrespecting each other. His dad was a big shot lawyer and he was hardly ever home and his mom, well… she filled in the void by drinking too much and being involved in every imaginable social club, trying desperately to fill her life with something meaningful. Being a guest in the Caffrey home was sort of like a life line - a glimpse into what life could be… should be.

Liam was thankful for his best friend, who'd always stood by him and whose reaction, when he’d finally come out to him the year before had been: ‘It’s about time you told me’. Turned out Will had know Liam was gay even before young Caffrey had admitted it to himself and ever since Liam had fully embraced his sexual orientation, Will had been supportive and caring in every way possible.

‘You guys all talk about your girlfriends and sometimes, I worry you’re going to think it’s weird… or gross.’ Liam admitted.

Will stopped dead in his tracks and faced his best friend, a look of total confusion on his face.

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Caffrey!’ he said as he looked his best buddy up and down.

‘Sorry…’ Liam muttered before finally blurting out what had been on his mind all day. ‘Did you see Lindstrom? He was all over Cody at lunch.’

Will let out a blustery laugh. ‘I did! What a jerk! You guys have only been broken up a couple of weeks.’

‘I know…and he’s so obvious about it too, hanging off Cody like he can’t even stand on his own two feet…’ Liam complained, in full confession mode.

‘Yeah’ Will nodded in agreement. ‘Totally over the top…’

They continued their discussion, their voices animated as they ambled down the street. 

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

‘Hey!’ Peter called out as the door to the Raphael Gallery opened to reveal its owner, nattily dressed as always. ‘I wasn't expecting to see _you_ in here today.’

‘I was hoping to catch Hope here before I head out to the school’ Neal admitted as he glanced around the empty space.

‘Ah, Daddy wants to wish his little girl a happy birthday’ Peter teased as Neal rolled his eyes.

‘How old are you, twelve?’ he snapped back.

Peter ignored him and carried on. ‘Well, she and Cam aren't here yet. They called to say they were running late’ he said.

‘Oh yeah?’ Neal responded, excited. Maybe this was it, the moment they'd all been waiting for.

‘Don’t read too much into it, Neal. Cam just said they’d overslept.’

Neal cringed at the euphemism, thinking back to all the times he'd used _that_ as an excuse to cover up his romps in the sheets with Sara.

‘Why don't you send her a text, wish her a happy birthday?’ Peter suggested.

Neal scoffed in response. ‘I am _not_ sending my daughter a _text_ to wish her a happy birthday. I’ve wished her a happy birthday in person for the past nineteen years and I’m not about to change that now.’

Peter went back to work; obviously, his well intentioned advice wasn't welcome on this particular occasion.

‘So, how’s your mom settling in?’ he asked. Changing the subject seemed like the way to go.

‘Great! She seems to really like the nursing home. She came over for dinner last night…’ Neal said as his voice trailed and a smile appeared on his lips.

Peter watched with interest. He knew how important it was for Neal to have his mom in New York. After years of estrangement, Neal was more than eager to make amends and to spend the little time they had remaining with her nearby.

‘You know, she’s becoming a really positive influence on Caitlin. Caitlin can’t get enough of her and everything my mom says to her is treated like the gospel truth’ Neal commented.

Peter raised his eyebrows and Neal’s eyes narrowed in response. ‘What?’

‘I don’t know… it’s just… it’s kind of like karma, don't you think?’ Peter said as Neal continued to stare quizzically. ‘How your mom blames herself for making a mess of things with you and now, she’s sort of making amends by being a good influence on a confused young girl.’

Neal had never considered things from that point of view and he was busy mulling it over when his phone dinged, indicating an incoming text.

‘ _Daddy, where are you?’_ he read as he grinned widely.

_‘At the gallery - waiting to wish you a happy birthday_ ’ he responded as he heard Peter’s phone vibrating nearby.

‘It’s Cam’ Peter announced as he glanced down at his phone.

Neal waited while Peter read the incoming text. ‘He wants to know if we can close up shop an hour early and if he can use the back room tonight’ he announced as Neal smiled knowingly.

‘This is it!’ he declared as he rubbed his hands in anticipation.

WCWCWC

Hope Ellis-Caffey spent the day of her twentieth birthday visiting with all those she held so dear.She met with her Dad at the gallery and had coffee with him before heading over to White Plains to spend some time with her best friend, Olivia Mason. At lunchtime, she met up with her mom and her godmother who treated her to lunch at one of her favourite spots, the Pink Cactus, the very same restaurant where she’d had her first date with Cameron Armstrong a few years back.The afternoon was spent shopping for a new outfit. Although he’d been short on details, Cam had hinted at a special evening to celebrate her special day. He’d warned her to stay away until 8:00, at which time she’d been instructed to swing by the gallery to pick him up.

By six o’clock, Hope was back home in White Plains, in her old room, examining herself up and down in the full length mirror as Caitlin lay on her bed, watching her with wide eyes.

‘Wow Hope! You look beautiful’ the teenager said as Hope turned on herself.

‘Thanks. I think Cam’s going to like this look - he loves me in red’ she commented.

‘So, what are you two doing to celebrate?’ asked the young girl as she stood and joined Hope, glancing at her same old boring self in the mirror.

‘He’s keeping things under wraps. I’m kind of hoping we’re not going back to the Pink Cactus, though - Mom and Auntie Elizabeth took me there for lunch.’

‘Why would he take you there?’ asked Caitlin, as always curious.

‘That’s where we went on our first date… he took me out to dinner and then to a gallery opening’ Hope said as she stared at herself in the mirror.

‘I wish _I_ had wavy hair; I _hate_ my hair’ Caitlin said as he ran her hand over her thick blond mane.

‘You have beautiful hair, Caitlin’ Hope said as she turned to face the teen, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. ‘And you have gorgeous blue eyes… you should wear your hair back and show them off more.’

Caitlin stared at her reflection; she had to admit to using her straight blond bangs to hide behind at times - a secret escape from prying eyes. ‘I just never know how to style it…’

Hope’s face lit up as she smiled at Caitlin. ‘Tell you what, why don't I give you a hand and we can try a few hairstyles before I go back on Sunday.’

‘Yeah?’ Caitlin responded, her voice unsure. ‘You’d do that for me?’

‘What are big sisters for?’ she responded as Caitlin beamed.

She’d long ago given up on having a happy family life and the past year had been more than she had ever dared dream of. Sure, Neal and Sara were often on her case but even _she_ knew they only wanted what was best for her.

Why would she want to mess all that up by letting her mother back into her life?

WCWCWC

Hope shivered as she pulled her wrap tightly around her shoulders. Winter had been slow in letting New York out of its grasp and they were calling for more wet snow and freezing drizzle overnight. Although West 27th looked busy, she couldn't help but notice that the gallery looked deserted, which was odd considering it didn't close for another hour. She parked Cam’s beat up Chevy in the one and only designated parking spot and made her way to the front door of the Raphael, noticing a sign announcing to passersby that the gallery would be closing at 8:00 on Wednesday, March 27th. Frowning, she tried the door, noticing it was locked and she began to search her handbag for her key, cursing as the cold air whirled around her legs, causing her dress to float up around her.

It was just as dark on the inside - except for a faint light coming from the back room where classes were taught and all the art supplies were kept.

‘Cam?’ Hope called out tentatively as she took a few more steps.

Soft music floated through the gallery and she smiled as she recognized the song, a John Legend tune she particularly liked.

‘Cam? Are you in here?’ she repeated as the young man suddenly appeared in the doorway to the backroom, looking very well put together in a pair of dress pants and a shirt and tie - far from the usual casual look he normally espoused.

‘Hi’ he said softly as he took a few steps towards her, the soft light on her face. ‘Hope… you look amazing!’

She laughed out loud, a little anxious and definitely thrilled to see him there, looking good enough to eat.

‘What’s going on?’ she said as he arrived at her side and leaned down to kiss her, his tall, lanky body practically folded in two to reach her soft, welcoming lips.

‘What’s going on is that I have a special evening in store for you… for us’ he said with a soft smile.

‘O-kay’ she said as he took her arm and gently led her towards the back room. Hope peeked in, barely recognizing the place where she spent countless hours, teaching classes, preparing pieces for display and just generally hanging out.

The large island where students worked remained in place but the rest of the art paraphernalia had been secreted away in cupboards out of sight and the whole room was bathed in dozens of soft fairy lights, giving the room a warm, inviting glow. A table had been set up with two chairs and suddenly the smell of something amazing wafted up through the air as Hope inhale deeply, her smile broadening.

‘It smells incredible in here’ she said as Cam removed her wrap and set it aside, glancing down at his girlfriend, looking amazing in a short red dress with lace trim, her hair halfway up in a soft chignon.

‘Oh my God!’ he exclaimed as he finally got a good look at her. ‘Hope, you’re beautiful.’

The look in his eyes could only be described as pure adoration and she smiled back at the young man, a lump forming in her throat.

‘What have you done?’ she asked with a chuckle as she continued to take in the small details around the room: a bunch of her favourite gerberas sat on a small sideboard nearby as well as candles and countless small glowing lights giving the room an air of glamor and elegance.

‘I hardly recognize the place’ she added as Cam watched her surprised face.

‘I thought it might be nice to celebrate in the place we first laid eyes on each other. Do you remember that day?’ he asked as she nodded.

‘How could I forget! You were this suave, twenty-year-old university student and I was this giggly teenage girl who couldn't keep her eyes off you’ she recalled.

Cam let out a throaty laugh as he thought back to the day this beautiful young woman had walked in. He remembered thinking how smart and wise she was - wise beyond her years and he’d admired her talent and quick wit as she’d definitely put him in his place.

‘And this is where we shared our first kiss…’ he reminded her as he leaned in to place a long, lingering kiss on her lips. ‘… only, this time, I promise your dad won’t walk in on us.’

Hope laughed as she remembered the awkward moment, her melting into Cameron’s arms as her dad interrupted. She wasn't sure who’d been more embarrassed at the time, her, Cam or her dad.

‘You’re right. This place will always be special for us. The gallery is what brought us together’ Hope agreed.

They stared into each others’ eyes a moment longer, some magical, intangible connection between them that neither would venture to describe. Cam was the first to break the spell, inviting Hope to take a seat as he pulled her chair out for her.

‘I hope you’re hungry’ he said as he busied himself at the small side table, removing the lid off some wonderful smelling food Hope couldn't quite see from her vantage point.

‘Is that fettuccine alfredo?’ she asked as the smell became unbearably tantalizing. ‘I’m starved!’

‘With shrimp’ Cam added as he placed a plateful of amazing pasta in front of her.

‘Cam!’ she said with a grin. ‘My absolute favourite!’

‘Well’ he said, returning to serve himself. ‘Everyone should have their favourite on their special day.’

He joined her at the table, music playing in the background as he reached for the bottle of wine and poured them each a glass, watching with relief as Hope began to relax.

‘I just can’t believe you did all this for me…’ she said, trying not to get emotional.

Cameron lifted his glass in a toast. ‘This is only the beginning. Happy birthday, sweetie!’

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

‘What do you suppose is going on over there?’ Peter Burke asked as the foursome sat, sipping wine. - a little _too much_ wine.

‘Were the security cameras left on?’ Neal asked, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

‘Would you two listen to each other, you sound like a couple of wrinkled up, gossipy old biddies’ Sara grumbled as she raised her arms up in exasperation.

Neal frowned at his wife; the image was a little jarring, to say the least.

‘You could have left out the ‘wrinkled’ part, honey’ he said, doing his best to sound hurt.

‘Neal Caffrey, I swear to God, if you as much as sneak a peek at that footage, I’ll… I’ll…’

‘You’ll what?’ Neal asked, challenging his wife. ‘You’re dying to know what’s going on over there just as much as I am.’

Elizabeth piped up between two sips of the Merlot they were enjoying - their third bottle and it was only nine thirty.

‘Sara’s right’ she said, her voice slightly slurred. ‘Hope and Cameron are entitled to their privacy.It’s _their_ night, not ours’ she said half-heartedly.

Peter threw his wife a look of disbelief. She was one of the nosiest people he’d ever met. As a matter of fact, throughout his years at the Bureau, he’d often thought of enlisting her help in interrogating their most ruthless criminals. 

‘Hope will tell us when she’s good and ready’ Sara claimed as she reached across the table to refill her glass.

‘Guys, I just thought of something’ Neal said, his face suddenly pale. ‘What if she says no?’

‘What?’ the remaining three chanted out.

‘Look, we don't know the ins and outs of their relationship. Maybe Hope will think it’s premature to get engaged’ he continued as everyone grew quiet.

‘Is that even a possibility?’ Peter asked as Sara and El looked on, suddenly quiet.

‘Naw…’ Sara said as she exchanged worried looks with Neal. ‘Hope is crazy about Cameron. She confided in me that…’ she stopped suddenly as everyone leaned in to hear what she was about to say.

‘What the hell am I doing? She _confided_ in me!’

‘Look, we all love Hope and we only want what’s best for her, right?’ Peter said as he eyed Neal’s laptop, sitting nearby on the kitchen counter.

‘Don’t even think about it, Peter Burke!’ Elizabeth warned as she noticed the twinkle in his eye.

‘What? Are you saying you can watch the closed circuit feed live online?’ Sara asked, her curiosity suddenly piqued.

Neal looked at the three expectant faces. ‘Sure. Sometimes, I check… randomly, you know, like on the odd Wednesday night when… everything is locked up for the night.’

Peter was on board immediately. ‘We could… just have a quick peek and make sure everything is… you know, locked up and secure’ he said, grasping at straws.

‘This is a _very_ bad idea’ Elizabeth warned as everyone stared at each other, trying to figure out who the holdout would be.

‘But there’s no _sound_ , right?’ Sara asked as she began to falter.

‘We would just be checking to see if Hope made it there safely’ Peter rationalized.

‘Just a minute or two and then… that’s it, we turn it off’ Neal said as he felt everyone begin to waver.

Four pairs of eyes glanced back and forth as temptation won out and suddenly, the sound of chairs scraping on the floor was heard as they all reached for the computer.

WCWCWC

‘Did you make this yourself?’ Hope asked, although she was reasonably certain of the answer. Cam was a decent cook by anyone’s standards but this… well this, was five star cuisine.

‘I wish I _could_ take credit’ Cameron said as he looked down at his plate. ‘But I worked all day. I had it delivered from Le Cropin.’

‘Le Cropin?’ Hope repeated. ‘Cam, you probably blew a whole week’s salary on this!’

Cameron reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘I wanted tonight to be perfect. And besides, you’re worth every penny,’

Hope set down her fork and leaned forward, taking both of Cameron’s hands in hers. ‘You’ve done a lot of romantic things over the past three years, Cameron Armstrong, but I think you might have just outdone yourself tonight.’

He winked at her and smiled mysteriously. ‘Wait until you see what I got us for dessert.’

Hope returned to her plate, not wanting to miss out on a single morsel of the delicious meal. The mood Cam had managed to create was so enchanting, she momentarily forgot they were sitting in the middle of her dad’s gallery. She let her eyes rest on her boyfriend, watching as he took a bite of the heavenly food. He was everything she could ever want in a man - sweet, caring, attentive, loyal, a man with a good heart who tried to do good every chance he got. She couldn't imagine her future without him and she was suddenly filled with sadness at the thought of having to leave him to return to Pittsburgh in just a few short days.

‘I wish I didn't have to go back on Sunday’ she blurted out as Cam’s eyes came up to meet hers.

‘Hope, it’s just a couple more years’ he answered, the voice of reason. ‘And this is your future, we have our whole lives ahead of us.’

‘Well, right now, it feels like it will never end’ Hope moaned.

‘I was thinking I could drive up in a couple of weeks, maybe your dad would give me a couple of extra days off.’

‘Yeah?’ Hope said as a smile returned to her face. ‘That would be great!’

‘It’s a plan then’ Cameron concluded. ‘And before you know it, it’ll be May and you’ll be back for the summer. Think about it, four whole months living in the same city’ he added with an encouraging smile.

‘I like the sound of that’ Hope agreed.

WCWCWC

‘Honey, move! I can’t see’ Sara whined as Neal prepared to log onto the CCTV website.

‘It’s camera three’ Peter called from behind as Neal glanced over his shoulder to glare at him with a look of annoyance.

‘I _know_ it’s camera three’ he replied, his voice impatient.

‘What’s that? What’s that?’ Elizabeth shouted as she pointed to the computer screen.

‘That’s upstairs’ Neal answered as he clicked onto the appropriate camera.

‘What the…’ Peter cried out as a partial image of the back room was revealed on screen. ‘How come the camera is off centre!’

‘I don’t know!’ Neal snapped back. ‘You spend more time there than I do.’

‘Look, look, that’s Hope’s arm’ Sara called out as an elbow appeared in the frame.

‘Oh, oh, and there’s Cameron’s foot’ added Elizabeth, pointing at the screen. ‘At least, I think it’s his foot…’

‘Neal, can’t you do something about the camera angle?’ Peter complained. This was probably payback for the four of them doing something so horribly devious.

‘Sure Peter, I’ll just reach out with my eight hundred foot arm and adjust it from here’ Neal answered sarcastically.

‘Someone must have accidentally hit the camera’ Peter concluded as Neal rolled his eyes.

‘You think so, Sherlock?’ he responded caustically.

‘Oh, look, I can see Hope’s shoulder!’ Sara called out excitedly.

‘Cam’s getting up!’ Elizabeth said as Neal gave her a dirty look. The play by play was really quite unnecessary considering they were all glued to the screen.

‘He’s walking over to the… oh, shoot, he’s out of camera range again’ Sara complained as she absentmindedly smacked Neal on the shoulder.

‘Ouch! Sara!’ Neal cried out.

‘Sorry honey, sorry’ she said as she patted his shoulder gently.

‘Oh, he’s coming back. He’s got something in his hands… oooh, do you think it might be the ring?’ Elizabeth asked as everybody squinted to get a better look of the grainy footage.

‘It looks like a platter with a lid on top’ Peter called out from the back as Cameron disappeared out of camera range once more.

‘I think that’s Cameron’s knee!’ Sara called out as she pointed excitedly. ‘Oh, my God, he’s down on one knee.’

Everyone waited with bated breath Without audio and with barely a glimpse at the odd body part here and there, there wasn't much to see and yet, all four of them stared mesmerized at the computer screen, holding their breath.

Suddenly, Hope appeared in camera range, standing and throwing her arms around Cameron’s neck as everyone erupted in cheer.

‘Oh my God!’ Sara cried out as she latched onto Elizabeth, her best friend wincing in pain at having her arm squeezed with such unrestrained enthusiasm. ‘Our baby is getting married!’

WCWCWC

‘So what’s this dessert you’ve been going on about?’ Hope asked as Cameron appeared at the table with a beautiful sterling silver platter with a dome on top.

‘The presentation is pretty dramatic, I’ll give you that’ she said as Cam stood in front of her, waiting for her to discover what was inside.

Without warning, Cameron dropped to one knee right in front of her and Hope’s eyes grew in surprise as he lifted the lid from the platter, watching her intently as her eyes went to the small velvet box hidden underneath.

He heard her gasp, her breath wavering as she began to put two and two together.

‘Hope Ellis-Caffrey’ he began, his voice shaky. ‘I thank God every single day that you walked into my life three years ago. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. You’re strong and independent, funny, warm and loving and sexy… and I love you madly, desperately, passionately. All I want, more than anything, is to spend the rest of my life with you by my side, building a future together. Hope, my sweet, sweet Hope, will you marry me?’

Hope sat with her mouth hanging open, not quite believing what she was hearing. Here was the man of her dreams, the man she couldn't imagine being without, declaring his undying love for her and she froze, overcome with emotion as he remained kneeling in front of her, anxiously awaiting her response.

‘Hope? Please… say something’ he pleaded.

‘Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!’ she declared as they both stood. She threw her arms around his neck, Cameron instantly lifting her up off the ground as he kissed her without restraint.

‘I love you, I love you, I love you’ she repeated between kisses as tears began to flow from both of them.

‘Oh, the ring!’ Cam said as he came to his senses.

‘There’s a ring?’ Hope repeated with a heartwarming giggle.

‘I hope you like it. Your dad said you would’ he said as she opened the box and lifted it up to show her.

‘My dad?’ she repeated as she wiped her eyes.

‘I asked for his permission…’ Cam explained as the tears started to flow again.

‘That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard’ Hope blubbered as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

‘It’s absolutely perfect!’ she exclaimed as she admired her hand. ‘I should have gotten a manicure’ she laughed through the tears.

‘You’re perfect… just the way you are’ he said as he held her hand, feeling her shaking in his grasp.

WCWCWC

The four voyeurs sat at the Caffrey kitchen table, feeling guilty as hell now that the wine had begun to wear off. Their eyes moved suspiciously from one another and finally Neal spoke, slowly and deliberately so there would be no mistaking his intention.

‘ _This_ never happened’ he declared solemnly as everyone looked down, shame apparent on their faces. ‘Look, we just got a little carried away, that’s all.’

Peter, Elizabeth and Sara nodded although anyone with one good eye could see they were feeling terrible about their lack of discretion.

‘It’s not like we heard anything…’ Sara reasoned.

‘And the picture quality was really poor…’ El added.

‘And now that we’ve ascertained that Hope got there safely, we can just pretend this never happened’ Peter said as everyone nodded.

Neal’s phone chirped with an incoming message and all four of them jumped out of their skin - a reaction only a guilty person would have.

‘It’s Hope’ Neal said as he lifted up his phone for everyone to see.

It was a picture of her hand, sporting a beautiful diamond solitaire with the message:‘You’ll NEVER guess what I got for my birthday!’

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Neal sat at the kitchen table, staring into his cup of coffee with a wide grin on his face as he surreptitiously eavesdropped on the two young women sitting on the couch nearby. For the past fifteen minutes, Hope had been regaling her best friend, Olivia Mason, with a blow by blow account of the magical night she and Cam had spent at the gallery the night before. Neal was beyond thrilled to have a front row seat for the recounting - considering he hadn't gotten much in the way of details from his ill-fated (and misguided) attempt at spying on the young lovers.

Hope had arrived first thing in the morning to show her parents her engagement ring and to share the short video Cam’s family had sent upon hearing the wonderful news. After lots of congratulatory hugs and a few squeals of joy, Sara had reluctantly headed out to the office, leaving Hope and Neal to spend some precious time together. Father and daughter had made plans to visit her uncle Peter at the gallery before heading over to the school where Hope had volunteered to teach the Thursday night class with her dad - just like old times.

The birthday dinner Neal and Sara had planned for their daughter the following night had suddenly morphed into an engagement party and Neal glanced down at the recipe books he'd spread out in front of him as he contemplated his menu options for the festive occasion.

‘You girls hungry?’ he called out over his shoulder as he heard a lull in the conversation.

He heard the girls giggle as they answered in harmony. ‘Grilled cheese sandwiches?’

Neal turned to face them, laughing heartily as he flashed back to over fifteen years of friendship between the two girls and countless grilled cheese sandwiches over the years.

‘And how about some…’

‘Chicken noodle soup?’ the girls chimed in as he grinned.

‘Done!’ Neal said as he stood to cater to their familiar request.

WCWCWC

‘Well, El and I are really happy for the two of you’ Peter said as the happy couple stood in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.

‘Thanks Uncle Peter. It’s going to be a long engagement but at least we know where we’re headed…’ Hope said as Cam stood proudly by her side, his arm draped loosely around her shoulder. 

‘…and we know we’re going there together’ Cam added with an irrepressible smile.

He’d been sporting that silly grin ever since Hope had uttered the three letter word he’d longed to hear. The young lovers had spent the rest of the previous evening making long term plans and calling their families and friends to share the good news. The future looked bright for the couple and they were enjoying basking in the afterglow of such a special night.

‘Well, I think you two are a match made in heaven’ Peter added as Neal stood by, watching with pride. 

‘Thanks Mr. Burke. I promise to take really good care of her’ Cam said as he placed a kiss on the top of Hope’s head.

‘I’m going to hold you to that’ Peter said with mock harshness as he glanced at his best friend. ‘We both are.’

WCWCWC

By Thursday night, the wind had picked up again as the cold freezing drizzle continued to fall relentlessly over New York - just miserable early spring weather. Neal was exhausted from the running around he’d been doing all week and he let out a weary sigh as he glanced out the classroom window. Despite the physical fatigue, Neal was perfectly content. His mom was finally settled in her new home, his beautiful daughter was home for the week and now that Hope’s news was out in the open, he felt relieved and thrilled for her and Cameron.

All was well with the world.

He and Hope had just finished teaching the weekly art appreciation class at the June Ellington School of Art, something they hadn’t had the chance to do together in over a year. 

‘You know, you have a real knack for teaching, you should really consider it as a career path, once you finish your art degree’ he said as he carried the easels back to their designated spot along the wall. 

‘I had no idea how much I’d missed teaching young kids’ Hope responded. ‘They’re a hoot!’ 

Although the June Ellington School of Art’s vocation was reaching out to underprivileged kids, it also offered a variety of classes for paying customers a couple of nights a week - just to help pay the bills. The Thursday night class was aimed at 9 to 13 year olds from well-to-do families and Neal had taken to teaching the class himself in an effort to hit on the rich parents for donations to the school.

‘It’s been a while since we’ve had the chance to work together’ he commented as he searched his daughter’s eyes. ‘I really enjoyed it!’

‘Same here, Dad’ Hope said as she prepared to clean the paint brushes in the large industrial sink.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it! You’re going to get your engagement ring all dirty!’ Neal called out as he stepped in to take over from her.

‘Don’t be silly, Dad. I’m going to be wearing this ring for the rest of my life and I’m probably going to be cleaning lots of paint brushes too’ Hope said, as she removed it and placed it carefully out of harm’s way while she worked.

Neal returned to the general tidying up of the classroom. ‘That kid is a riot, the one who has a crush on you’ he said with a chuckle.

‘Leon? Yeah, he’s sweet.’

‘Sweet on you, you mean. You should have seen your face when I told him your name was _Mrs._ Armstrong!’ Neal sniggered.

‘Seriously Dad? You’re worse than a third grader. How long are you going to keep teasing me? And why would I change my name anyway. I’ve been a Caffrey all my life, that’s not about to change just because I’m getting married.’

They continued working side by side, joking around and exchanging good natured barbs as they got the room ready for the next day’s classes and finally, just short of 9:30, they put on their coats and prepared to face the cold, miserable March evening. 

Neal stood by the front door, entering the security code in the keypad while Hope peeked over his shoulder.

‘2703? Aww, Daddy… you use my birthdate as the security code for the building? That’s so sweet’ she said, obviously touched.

Neal raised his eyebrows and grinned, not wanting to admit to the sentimental choice for his security code. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, I try to change it every couple of months’ he fibbed as he held the door open for her. ‘All set?’

‘You sure you don’t mind driving me all the way back to Cam’s place. The weather is crappy’ she commented as they both exited the building and stepped out onto the slippery sidewalk.

‘Like I’m letting you take a cab back to Flushing’ Neal said as he playfully jostled her.

They stepped onto the quiet street, Neal a couple of steps ahead of his daughter as he headed for the car, parked across the street.

‘Let’s go _Mrs. Armstrong!_ ’ he teased as he pulled up the collar on his jacket and took a couple of careful steps onto the rain slicked street, turning to get a glimpse of Hope’s reaction to his good natured ribbing.

Hope shook her head in exasperation as Neal grinned at her, that oh so familiar look of mischief apparent in his bright eyes.

She was suddenly aware of the sound of screeching tires coming from up the street. She glanced to her right, noticing some car headlights peeking out from around the corner and it took her a moment to realize that the vehicle had taken the corner at a very high speed and wasn't showing any signs of slowing down.

Her eyes went from the careening car back to Neal’s face. He was still grinning at her, looking relaxed and totally unaware that the bright headlights were aimed directly at his back. He squinted in the semi-darkness, noticing the look of concern on Hope’s face and before he could turn around to see what she was staring at, she was closing the gap between them, shouting as her hands came up against his chest in an attempt to push him out of harm’s way.

‘DAD!’ she shouted as she reached for his coat lapel, grabbing on with all her might and pushing him as hard as she possibly could towards the other side of the street. Neal was caught off guard and he lost his footing, flying through the air and landing hard on his backside as he let out a loud grunt of pain.

Suddenly, the car seemed to change trajectory as it hit a patch of ice, skidding as it attempted to slow down, alas too late for the driver to gain control of the car’s movements. Where one moment earlier, Hope had been safely out of the car’s path, she now found herself dead centre of its trajectory, unable to react in the fraction of a second it took for the car to lose control.

Neal’s eyes grew in horror, watching helplessly as Hope was struck with violent force by the careening car, her body sent soaring through the air before landing on the car’s hood with a loud bang, the sound of the impact resonating in the quiet street. He lay there, totally dumbfounded as all his senses began to fade, sounds ringing hollow in his ears, eyesight dimming, mouth dry and yet acutely aware of the smell of burning rubber from the screeching tires as the car attempted without success to avoid the collision. The car lurched ahead, continuing a few feet with Hope still draped on its hood before finally stopping dead its tracks. The sudden jolt caused Hope’s body to roll off, landing with a loud thud onto the pavement below like a floppy rag doll.

The car reversed, Neal’s eyes still riveted on Hope’s inert body and the driver manoeuvred around her, taking off almost as fast as it had appeared, down the otherwise deserted street, continuing on its way towards Maple Street as if nothing had happened. 

Neal felt his heart pounding in his chest. Surely, his eyes were deceiving him, this had to be some horrible nightmare. Hope couldn’t possibly be lying there in the middle of thestreet, her body motionless. He was suddenly aware of someone rushing to their aid, a young couple who appeared out of nowhere just as Neal willed his body to move from the spot where he’d been lying, totally dazed. 

‘HOPE!’ he screamed as he staggered over to where she lay, not even feeling his legs beneath him. In some unconscious part of his mind, he became aware of a woman standing nearby, talking on the phone and in three long strides Neal had made it to Hope’s side, letting his bruised body collapse on the ground next to her, staring with stunned disbelief as she lay on her side, totally immobile.

‘Hope! Hope!’ he cried out as he turned her over to get a look at her face – her beautiful face, now horribly disfigured by the violent collision with the pavement, blood covering her features from forehead to chin, eyes resolutely closed.

‘Hope, look at me, look at me!’ he called out frantically as she lay unresponsive.

Neal’s breathing grew increasingly rapid and shallow and he fought to catch his breath, stars appearing in his field of vision.

‘We’ve called for an ambulance’ he heard a man’s voice say from some far corner of his jumbled mind. He slipped his arms under Hope’s slack body, cradling her against his chest and staring down at her barely recognizable face. For a moment, he seemed to come to his senses and he placed his finger against her jugular, noting a weak heartbeat against his trembling hand. He gasped in relief and thought he felt a disembodied hand on his back but all he could do was stare ahead, mesmerized by the surreal sight of his little girl, lying in the middle of the street, her body limp and unresponsive.

He sat there on the cold, hard pavement, the bitter rain pummelling his face, for what seemed like hours with Hope nestled in his arms, aware of nothing but her laboured breathing and the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

‘You’re going to be all right, sweet pea. It’s going to be okay… you’re okay… you’re okay… you’re okay… you're okay… you're okay…’ he whispered breathlessly as he rocked her back and forth in his arms, cold rain and warm tears streaming down his face.

Suddenly, there was a warm blanket being placed around his shoulders and a pair of insistent arms clad in a neon uniform were trying to pry him away from his baby girl as he fought them off, unwilling to let her out of his tight embrace.

‘Sir! Sir!’ a resolute voice was saying. ‘Let us take a look, please.’

Neal reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Hope’s face and towards the insistent voice which had suddenly materialized at his side.

‘No… no…’ he said, breathlessly. ‘You don’t understand… this is my little girl…’

‘Sir, please’ the voice repeated. ‘We’re here to help you. Let us take a look at her.’

The part of Neal’s brain which was still barely connected to reality seemed to register that the paramedics were there to help and he slowly began to loosen his grip on Hope’s listless body.

‘Don’t… don’t hurt her…’ he cried out incoherently as he reluctantly let her slip out of his arms.

He felt himself being pulled away and led towards a nearby ambulance, where he was forced to sit, his eyes riveted on Hope who was still lying on the rainy street with two men in uniform fussing around her.

‘Why… why are you leaving her there…on the cold, hard pavement…’ he murmured to no one in particular.

‘Sir, my colleagues are going to assess her before we move her. Can you tell me what happened?’ the woman who was tending to him asked.

Neal stared ahead, trying to make sense of what had transpired but it was as if his brain had short circuited and he was no longer capable of putting together a coherent thought. All that mattered was that Hope open her eyes, that she get up off the ground and run towards him, laughing, so he could resume teasing her as he'd been doing, moments before. 

‘What’s your name?’ the woman asked as Neal stared off into space.

‘Sir, your name?’

‘Hope…’

‘Is that your daughter’s name?’ the woman asked as Neal nodded, his look vacant.

‘And what’s _your_ name?’

‘Caffrey… Neal’ he said, sounding almost robotic.

‘Neal, you need to let me look at your head. You’re bleeding, you have a bad cut’ she said as he cringed at her gentle touch.

‘Hope…’ he repeated.

‘My colleagues are taking good care of Hope, Neal. You need to let me have a look at your head’ she said, taking charge of the situation. 

Something cold and wet was dripping down from his forehead and into his eye and he felt the woman wipe the blood away gently as he winced.

‘Neal, who can we call to come and be with you?’ she asked.

He blinked, coming to his senses. Sara… Sara needed to know what had happened to their baby but he couldn't bring himself to turn her world upside down… not yet…. How could he possibly explain to his wife that Hope was lying motionless on the ground when he had been _right there_ , standing beside her, moments earlier.And Cam… oh my God… Cam, he would be totally devastated.

He couldn't do that to either one of them - not yet - and he said the only name that popped into his head, the only person who could help make this right.

‘Peter… Burke’ Neal muttered as the woman asked for his phone. He watched her with vacant eyes as she searched his phone for the contact information and she passed the phone to her colleague, returning to tend to Neal, speaking softly and reassuringly as she bandaged his forehead.

Hope was still lying on the ground, covered in a blanket and Neal watched in horror as one of paramedics brought over a spinal board.

‘Is… is her b…b…back broken?’ Neal stuttered, voice halting as he stared ahead.

‘It’s just a precaution, Neal’ the kind woman said. ‘We just need to make sure we don’t do any further damage.’

Suddenly, there were police cars Neal hadn’t even seen arrive and blinking lights bathing the street in an eerie shades of blue and red. He could see officers talking to the young couple, taking notes, carrying on as if Hope wasn’t lying there a few feet away, unconscious on the goddamn pavement.

‘Why is she still on the ground? Is she…’ Neal let his voice fade, unable to finish his thought.

‘She's breathing. They’re just going to get her strapped onto the board and then we’ll take you both to the hospital.’

‘I w…want to go with her…’ Neal said breathlessly.

‘You need to get into the ambulance with me and we’ll follow your daughter to the hospital’ said the woman, her voice insistent.

‘NO!… NO!…’

‘Neal, there’s nothing you can do for your daughter right now. We have to get her to the hospital and we need to have you looked at as well. You probably have a concussion and you’re in shock.’

‘No…’ Neal attempted, his voice weak.

‘It’s not up for discussion, Neal’ she said as he stood suddenly, pushing her away and walking towards the gurney on which they’d finally placed an unconscious Hope.

‘Honey, I’m here…’he said as he got closer. ‘It’s okay… it’s okay… Everything’s going to be okay.’

Neal heard his own tortured voice resonating in the quiet street and he flinched. Things would never be okay again.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Neal remained glued to the edge of the gurney, eyes focused on Hope’s face. The right side looked much as it always had, her sweet mouth, her round cheek, her soft eyelid but the left side was disfigured almost beyond recognition and anyone could see she had fractured several bones in her face. She’d been intubated and some of the blood and debris washed off her face, revealing multiple contusions and a deep crevice where her left cheek should have been. The sight of her, looking so vulnerable and broken, was too much to bear and Neal clung to the edge of the gurney, fingers firmly clutching the sheet that lay underneath Hope’s mangled body, his knuckles white as he tried to get his breathing under control.

‘Neal… Mr. Caffrey, please’ the voice said authoritatively as Neal returned to the here and now.

His head was swimming, his vision cutting out every few seconds as he fought to remain standing. The paramedic who had seen to his head wound placed her hand firmly on his arm, urging him to let go so Hope could be loaded up into the ambulance but Neal resisted, unwilling to let his precious daughter out of his sight.

‘Neal, we need to get her to the hospital. You have to let her go and come with me’ she said as she tugged at his arm. ‘Otherwise, I’m going to have to sedate you.’

Neal’s eyes came up instantly and his hands let go of the gurney.

‘No… No, no’ he said, his voice quivering. 

Even in his present state of confusion, Neal _knew_ he was suffering from shock. He’d seen enough people in that condition over the years to recognize the signs - his palms were sweaty, his heart was pounding, his mind was unclear. If they sedated him, he would become even less functional and he couldn't afford to sink into unconsciousness when Hope needed him the most.

‘All right, I’ll come’ he said as he stepped away shakily, watching as they loaded Hope up into the second ambulance.

He let himself be led by the arm and placed on a gurney for the short ride to the nearest hospital although he couldn't think clearly enough at the moment to know where that was.

‘Where are we going?’ he asked, shaking uncontrollably as the adrenaline finally left his body.

‘We’re taking you to Bronx Lebanon’ the woman said as her partner pulled the ambulance out onto the street.

‘Hope?’ Neal asked suddenly worried they would be separated.

‘They’re taking her there to start’ the woman explained as she checked his blood pressure once again.

‘To start?’ he asked, unable to form complete sentences.

‘They’ve got an acute care wing and they’ll evaluate her there and see if that’s the best place for her’ she explained as best she could, frowning as she took in the numbers on the monitor.

‘Try to relax’ she urged. ‘Your blood pressure is dangerously low.’ she urged as Neal felt his head swimming, fighting to stay conscious.

It was a losing battle and when he was finally wheeled into the ER at Bronx Lebanon eight minutes later, he was blissfully unconscious.

WCWCWC

It was just past 10:15 when Peter got up off the couch to grab another beer from the refrigerator before settling in to watch the last quarter of the Knicks game. El was working late at an event in Manhattan and whenever she wasn't around, he liked to push his luck with a second beer - or sometimes, even a third. He let himself flop onto the couch and grabbed for the remote control to turn up the volume. The Knicks were down by eighteen points and bridging that gap seemed like an unlikely feat; he wondered if he should switch over to catch the news on CNN instead.The shrill ringing of the phone was heard before he could make up his mind and he glanced down to see Neal’s name on the screen.

‘Hey buddy. How come you’re calling so late’ he said into the phone, a smile on his face.

‘Is this Peter Burke?’ the unknown voice asked as Peter sat up straight, putting down his beer.

‘Who is this?’ Peter asked, beyond curious.

‘This is Frank Morgan, sir. I’m a paramedic with FDNY. I’m calling because you’re an emergency contact for Mr. Neal Caffrey.’

‘Mr. Caffrey?’ Peter repeated, now standing. ‘What’s happened?’

‘There was an accident outside the June Ellington School of Art and Mr. Caffrey’s daughter was struck by a car. Mr. Caffrey was slightly injured and we’re taking them both to Bronx Lebanon Hospital.’

Peter was pacing now as he tried to wrap his mind around what he was hearing.

‘How badly is she hurt?’ he managed to ask as his throat tightened.

‘I’m afraid I can’t give you any details sir but I wonder if you can come down to the ER. Mr. Caffrey is not in any fit state to deal with the situation at the moment.’

‘I’ll be right there’ Peter said, grabbing for his jacket.

WCWCWC

Sara checked the time once more and glanced out at the teeming rain. It was a mess out on the roads and Neal was out there somewhere. He hadn't been answering his phone nor had Hope - they’d probably set their phones to silent while they were teaching and forgot to turn the volume back up. Neal was notorious for doing that and it certainly wouldn't be the first time she worried needlessly, only to see him drive up to the house, apologizing profusely for having worried her. He’d been tired all week mainly due to his mom’s arrival in New York. He’d popped in to see her every single day since she’d gotten there and with Hope’s birthday and engagement as well as the party they were throwing for her the following night, it was an awful lot for him to be dealing with all at once. 

‘Goodnight Mom’ she heard as she looked up to find Liam standing there, looking so grow up.

She stood to kiss him goodnight, leaning up to reach his cheek and watching him roll his eyes.

‘Someday, _you’ll_ be the one wanting to kiss _me_ goodnight’ she said as she ruffled his hair and sent him on his way.

She grabbed the phone and dialled Cam’s number to find out if Hope had made it back yet but he wasn't able to confirm or deny. He was out with a group of guys and hadn't heard from Hope since earlier in the evening.

She returned to her vigil, eyes glued to the street, hoping to see those familiar headlights coming up the driveway.

WCWCWC

‘Caffrey’ Peter said as he stood at the triage desk and waited for the nurse to check her computer.

The fact that she didn't bother to check and already knew exactly who Peter was talking about was worrisome and she signalled one of the ward volunteers to take him back to the emergency room where Peter was directed to wait in a smaller waiting room right off the large and busy ER.

Within five minutes, a nurse appeared, inviting him to follow her as they crossed the large room which held fifteen to twenty beds, each separated by a privacy curtain. Peter glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hope in one of the beds - to no avail. The nurse stopped in front of bay number eight where an empty bed lay and she invited Peter to take a seat on the one and only chair. Peter looked around the small space, noticing Neal’s jacket on the bed along with some clothing and his gaze met the nurse’s eyes as he waited for an explanation.

‘They’ve taken Mr. Caffrey down for a brain scan’ she informed him as he frowned.

‘A brain scan?’ he repeated.

‘The doctor will explain. You can wait here. It shouldn't be too long.’

‘Do you know anything about Hope Caffrey?’ he asked, afraid of the answer.

‘Sorry, no. You’ll have to talk to the doctor.’

Peter paced, unable to settle in one place when he had no idea what state his goddaughter was in, let alone his best friend. He wondered why Sara wasn't at the hospital yet and he hesitated, wondering if he should call her and let her know what was going on. He didn't have to wait long. Within a few minutes, he spotted Neal returning on a gurney, pushed by an orderly.

The look of Neal’s face as he spotted his best friend waiting there was nothing short of chilling. His eyes were sunken and dark and his usually expressive face was impassive as he was rolled in and placed onto the bed by the young man, without saying a word.

The orderly glanced at Peter before leaving. ‘He’s been sedated so he might be a little out of it. The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you about his test results.’

‘Neal?’ Peter said hesitantly as he towered over the bed.

Neal’s eyes were glazed over but he blinked his eyes in recognition of his best friend standing there.

‘I didn’t want them to…’ he slurred as he attempted to sit up. ‘But they gave me something… Peter… Hope…’

‘We’re going to find out what’s going on’ Peter said as he pushed Neal back down on the narrow bed. ‘Let me ask at the desk. Neal, did you call Sara?’

Neal shook his head, looking shameful as he opened his mouth to speak and closed again before finally speaking. ‘I didn't know how… how to tell her.’

‘It’s okay, buddy. I’ll take care of it.’

‘And Cam…’ Neal said as his eyes closed despite his best efforts to keep them open.

Peter made his way over to the busy nurses’ station and waited for eye contact which was taking way too long in coming.

‘Excuse me’ he finally said, unable to contain himself. ‘I’m trying to find out what’s happened to Mr. Caffrey’s daughter, Hope Caffrey’ he said pointing to Neal nearby.

The nurse looked down at some papers in front of her, speaking to her colleague. ‘Caffrey… is that the MVA?’ she asked as the other woman nodded.

‘She’s still back there being assessed; they’re trying to stabilize her.’ she told her colleague who turned to Peter, needlessly repeating the same thing he’d just heard.

‘When will we know…’

‘The doctor will be out to speak to you as soon as they’re done’ she said as Peter glanced over towards the bed where Neal was quietly resting. 

He moved over to a quiet corner and took a deep breath as he prepared to turn Sara and Cameron’s lives upside down.

Cam’s phone went directly to voice mail and Peter left a cryptic message telling him to come down to the hospital but without giving him any details. There was a fine line between creating panic and downplaying the serious circumstances involved and Peter tried as best he could to walk that line, trying to keep his voice from shaking. 

Sara, on the other hand, answered on the first ring and he could tell by the sound of her voice that she’d been waiting for news from Neal.

‘Peter, what’s going on? Has something happened to Neal?’ she asked in one swift breath.

Peter faltered for just a second and cleared his throat. ‘Sara, there’s been an accident and I need you to come down to Bronx Lebanon.’

‘What k… kind of accident? Is he badly hurt?’ Sara said, her voice shaking.

Peter glanced over at Neal a few feet away before continuing. ‘Sara, Neal’s fine. It’s… it’s Hope… she was hit by a car’ he finally said as he heard her gasp.

‘Sara, listen to me, I need you to stay calm and come down here. Can you do that? Don’t drive, okay?’ Peter said as he glanced over towards Neal, noticing a man clad in a white lab coat had appeared and was standing by his bed.

‘Should I… bring Liam and Caitlin with me?’ she asked, trying to gauge how dire the situation was.

‘No… just come, okay?’ Peter said as he made his way back to where Neal was sitting up, talking to the doctor.

‘Ask at the desk and they’ll bring you to the ER where Neal is.’

‘Why is Neal in the ER? And why didn't he call me himself?’ Sara asked and Peter could tell by her uneven breathing that she was moving around the house, probably collecting her purse, grabbing her coat.

‘Neal’s slightly hurt but…’

‘I want to talk to him’ Sara said in that no nonsense voice he’d come to know over the years.

Peter took a deep breath; when Sara got something in her head, she was notoriously perseverant. He made his way to where Neal sat up, eyes weary but seemingly a little more withit than he'd been moments before.

‘Sara…’ he said as he handed the phone to Neal and watched his face fall.

Neal gave his head a shake as if to make him more alert and he took a long slow breath.

’Honey, it’s me’ he said, his voice shaky. ‘Can you come down here? I need you…’

‘I’m coming Neal’ she said, satisfied that he was in one piece.

Neal handed the phone back to Peter and returned his attention to the man who stood there, waiting patiently.

‘What about my daughter?’ Neal asked, seemingly not for the first time.

‘Mr. Caffrey, I told you. They’re still working on her. As soon as possible, they’ll be out to talk to you.’

The man turned his attention to Peter. ‘We did a scan to make sure everything was all right, considering Mr. Caffrey’s history of brain injury. Everything looks good, we’ve stitched up the cut and he has a few bumps and bruises but otherwise… he says he wants to be released and I don't have a problem with that as long as someone keeps an eye on him for the next few hours.’

‘Will do. Thank you doctor’ Peter said as he shook the man’s hand.

‘I’ll make sure they know where to find you’ the man added before leaving.

Neal sat up, hands shaking as he grabbed for his clothes and gave a weak head nod towards the curtain, urging Peter to pull it closed so he could get dressed.

Peter helped steady him as Neal slipped on his clothes in silence and he couldn't help but notice the strange eerie emptiness in his best friend’s eyes.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Cameron Armstrong excused himself to use the facilities at The Lazy Hole, the neighbourhood bar he regularly frequented with his university friends. He glanced down at his phone, hoping to find a text from his lovely fiancée telling him she’d finally made it home. He smiled at the thought of how much his life had changed in the past twenty-four hours. His hopes and dreams had finally come true; all that was left was for him and Hope to plan for their wonderful future together. Now that Hope had agreed to be his wife, it was smooth sailing - the whole world was at their feet.

Instead of the expected text, he noticed a voice mail had come in while he was being razzed by his pool buddies for his predictably traditional proposal and his continuous fawning over his new fiancée.

Cam brought the phone to his ear, frowning as he listened to Peter’s deep voice informing him that, while he’d been busy sharing a beer with his buddies, the course of his life had changed irrevocably.

WCWCWC

The cab stopped directly in front of the emergency room entrance of Bronx Lebanon Hospital and Sara Ellis threw some cash at the driver and ran inside. Her mind had been working overtime with elaborate scenarios ranging from Hope having a few bumps and bruises to her hovering near death. Once inside, the mere mention of her name got her in past the triage desk and into the small waiting room that Peter had been brought to earlier.

And that’s where she found Peter, his arm draped around Neal’s back as the younger man vomited into a barf bag.

‘Sara!’ Peter said as he stood to greet her, Neal grabbing onto the arms of the chair to try to do the same, despite his shaky legs.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked as she made her way to Neal who wasted no time in opening up his arms to her.

They hugged tightly, Neal holding on to his wife to keep from keeling over and when Sara pulled away, she felt a shiver at the look of sheer heartache in his eyes and somehow she knew the news was bad, really bad. She gently ran her hand over the bandage on his head as he tried to shoo her hand away.

‘I’m okay’ he whispered as she held him up and guided him back to his seat.

‘I’ll… get rid of this’ Peter said as he picked up the barf bag and left the room looking for somewhere appropriate to dispose of its contents.

‘How bad _is_ it?’ Sara asked as she sat next to her husband.

He slipped his arm around her shoulder as he spoke. ‘Bad…’ he said with a whimper.

‘Oh, my God!’ Sara sobbed. ‘Is she…’

‘We don't know anything yet’ Neal explained. ‘They’re working on her and they said they’d be out to talk to us as soon as they can.’

‘What about Cam?’ she asked as she thought of the young man who loved their daughter just as much as they did.

‘Peter left him a message… he should be here any minute’ Neal said, colour finally beginning to return to his face.

‘And you’re sure you’re all right?’ she asked as she ran her hand down his cheek.

‘I’m fine…’

‘What happened?’ she asked just as Peter returned.

‘It was… we were crossing the street, right in front of the school and… this car came… came out of nowhere…’ Neal stuttered. ‘I never saw it until it… it…’ he stopped, unable to continue for fear he might fall apart.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes to steady himself. The images came flooding back, playing over and over again in some twisted loop in his mind’s eye - Hope’s body flying through the air, the horrible ‘bang’ as her body hit the windshield, the devastating ‘thump’ as it hit the cold, hard ground.

The door to the waiting room opened again and this time, Cam entered, his eyes wild as he searched the room almost as if he expected to see Hope sitting alongside her parents and her uncle Peter.

‘Where is she?’ he blurted out without the usual greeting.

‘Cam!’ Peter said as he walked over to the young man. ‘Come, sit down.’

At six foot two, Peter was no slouch but Cameron towered over him by a couple of inches and he used his height advantage to push Peter away.

‘I don’t want to sit down. Where is she, where’s Hope?’ he repeated as he took in the look of absolute terror on Neal and Sara’s faces.

‘No… she’s not….’ he moaned as Peter moved in quickly to reassure him.

‘No, no. We’re still waiting for news. The doctors will come out and talk to us as soon as they can’ Peter reassured him. ‘They’re in with her right now.’

Sweet, loving, kind Cameron turned towards Neal and the pain and anguish in his eyes morphed into anger as he spoke. ‘Where were _you_? I thought you were with her?’ he blurted out, his tone full of blame and reproach.

Neal was once again consumed with guilt and his eyes looked down to avoid the sting of accusation in the young man’s eyes.

‘I was… it just… it happened so fast, Cam’ Neal uttered, his voice barely audible.

The awkward tension in the room was interrupted by a woman in a lab coat standing in the doorway, looking somber.

‘Are you Hope Caffrey’s family?’ she asked.

WCWCWC

The woman introduced herself as Dr. Morrison and she invited the foursome to follow her to a nearby meeting room where they were all urged to take a seat so they could be briefed on Hope’s condition. Two other doctors were already there, faces stern, waiting for everyone to take their place around the large conference room table.

‘Are you Hope’s parents?’ she asked Neal and Sara as everyone took a chair.

‘Yes’ Sara said. ‘And this is Hope’s boyfr… fiancé’ she added, pointing to Cameron who was trying hard to contain himself.

‘Peter Burke…I’m Hope’s godfather’ Peter added as the woman nodded.

‘I know you’re all anxious to know what’s going on. I won’t sugar coat it. Hope is in critical condition’ she began as everyone leaned in to listen, Sara gasping at the words.

‘We’ve managed to stabilize her and she’s in no immediate danger but her situation is very precarious’ the woman said as she turned to introduce the other two people in the room, a young man and an older woman. ‘These are my colleagues, Dr. White is a neurologist and Dr. Jimenez, well, her specialty is orthopaedic surgery.’

‘Hope has suffered a long list of injuries, the most serious of which is a head trauma’ the woman continued.

Neal stared ahead blankly, Sara’s hand firmly in his. He had suffered a brain injury fifteen years earlier and he knew the repercussions were far-reaching and long term. All these years later, he still suffered from headaches and memory lapses and he hated to think that, even in a best case scenario, Hope would be living with the consequences of such a serious injury for the rest of her life.

‘Her body suffered three major impacts, once when the car hit her head on, a second when her body was thrown against the car hood and again when she hit the pavement’ Dr. Morrison explained.

Cameron let out a gasp at the graphic description and Sara’s hand came to rest on his back. This was all too horrible to imagine. Hope, who had woken up safe in his arms that morning, was now lying nearby, fighting for her life.

The younger doctor, Dr. White, had been quiet up to this point and he leaned forward as he spoke.

‘With this type of injury, the head whips forward and back violently and it causes the brain to collide at high speed with the bones of the skull. This movement bruises brain tissue and tears blood vessels, especially in the frontal and temporal lobes and they can become damaged.Sometimes, the damage is to the connecting nerve cells that link the brain to the rest of the body. We’re going to monitor the damage done to Hope’s brain with MRIs and CAT scans in order to understand how this trauma might affect her.’

‘But what does that mean… practically speaking?’ Cameron asked. All he wanted was to have Hope back in his arms again just as she’d been before all this happened although it was becoming increasingly clear from the explanations that was never going to happen.

‘It means that for now, we need to let the swelling that has occurred in her brain diminish before we can know exactly how this will affect her, going forward. We may need to operate to relieve the pressure on her brain if it doesn't go down by itself.’

Sara shook her head and let her eyes fall to her lap, where Neal was holding her hand so tight she could barely feel it. She thought back to the horrible months following Neal’s accident all those years ago. He had suffered memory loss and the anguish it had caused had sorely tested their marriage just when they’d been expecting Liam. Is that what their beautiful daughter was in for - or worse?

‘Is she conscious?’ Peter asked as Dr. Morrison shook her head.

‘No, she’s not and for the time being, she’s better off that way.’

‘Is she… in a coma?’ Cameron asked.

‘It’s too early to tell. Coma is just another word for a loss of consciousness that lasts over a long period of time. Over the next day or so, we are going to be evaluating her level of consciousness with something called the Glasgow Coma Scale.

‘What’s that?’ Neal asked.

Sara turned to look at her husband. ‘They evaluated _you_ with that scale when you were injured.’

‘It’s a way of evaluating the depth of a coma and it gives us some indication as to possible outcomes for the patient. Hope seems to be reacting to pain stimuli and that is a _very_ good sign’ Dr. White explained.

‘Look, I realize this is a lot to take in but we wanted to give you an overview of the situation. We know you’ve been waiting for news for a couple of hours. On top of all those neurological issues, Hope has also suffered multiple fractures.’

‘Multiple?’ Neal asked as he recalled her mangled face.

‘She has a broken pelvis, her left tibia is fractured and she has a cracked femur and some cracked ribs’ the doctor explained as she took in the look of worry on the family’s face. 

Unfortunately, she was far from finished with the laundry list of injuries.

‘Hope also suffered a broken clavicle and several broken bones in her face which took the brunt of the impact when she fell onto the pavement.’

‘Oh, my God!’ Cameron cried out as he brought his hands to cover his face.

Sara’s eyes moved to look at Neal, noticing those deep lines appearing on his forehead and she ran her hand down Cam’s back in a show of support.

‘Where is she? I want to see her’ Cam pleaded as his eyes met the doctor’s calm gaze.

‘We’ve set her up in the intensive care unit until we get everything stabilized but in a day or two, we’ll need to operate to relieve some of the issues with her broken bones’ explained Dr. Jimenez who hadn't spoken yet.

‘Can you operate while she’s… in a coma?’ Peter asked.

‘We can and in Hope’s case, it’s imperative we do so. She has a broken nose, a fractured eye socket, her cheekbone is badly shattered and her jaw is broken.Right now, we have her on a respirator but if we can get some of these issues resolved, she might eventually be able to breathe on her own.’

‘Eventually?’ Neal repeated as he let go of Sara’s hand and leaned forward.

‘The broken bones are causing serious breathing issues for Hope, impeding her airway and we need to take care of that sooner than later’ explained Dr. Jimenez.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Caffrey… Cameron…’ Dr. Morrison said. ‘I know this sounds overwhelming but Hope is a young, otherwise healthy young woman and that bodes well in her favour. You need to know that we’re doing all we can for her and that she’s getting the best possible care. The next couple of days are crucial. We’ll be better able to assess the damage and the GCS will help us determine her chances of regaining consciousness.’

Cameron looked on in horror, despondent, his face pale as he thought of the woman he loved suffering like that.

Sara nodded and wiped her eyes. It was just too much to take in and she faltered, suddenly feeling light headed and dizzy. Neal noticed her shoulders drooping and her face growing pale.Her breathing grew more and more shallow and the next thing he knew she was slumping in the chair beside him.

‘Sara!’ Neal called out as he brought his arm around her shoulder to keep her from falling forward.

The male doctor, Dr. White, was instantly on his feet with a glass of water and he brought it to Sara’s lips as she let out a small whimper. 

‘Put your head down between your knees’ the doctor instructed as Neal watched with concern.

‘I’m fine… I’m fine’ Sara muttered, unconvincingly as she finally sat up and regained a bit of colour. ‘Can we see her?’

Neal thought of the last time he’d laid eyes on his daughter. It was going to be horrible for Cam and Sara to see her like that.

‘You can go in for a few minutes, one at a time but be prepared… she doesn't look like the young woman you know’ warned Dr. Morrison.

Neal and Sara exchanged looks; as much as they were hurting, they could see the look of shock and devastation on Cameron’s face.

‘Do you want to go in first?’ Sara asked as he nodded meekly.

Dr. Morrison spoke up, giving the worried family one last piece of advice. ’Look, I know your instinct is to stay here at the hospital and be near Hope but until she’s stable, visits will have to be kept to a few minutes. In a couple of days, when we’ve got her stabilized, you can spend more time with her. In the meantime, I strongly suggest you go home and try to get some rest. It’s going to be a long haul and Hope is going to need all of you to be healthy and strong in order to help her through the next little while.’

It seemed unthinkable to leave the hospital, to leave Hope alone and Neal and Sara looked at each other, tears in their eyes at the thought of their little girl, left to deal with everything on her own.

Dr. Morrison rose and took Cameron’s arm. ’Come on, I’ll take you in’ she said.

The two other doctors stood to leave, explaining that they would be in touch with the family on a daily basis and suddenly Neal and Sara were left with Peter to digest the devastating news they’d just heard.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Dr. Morrison entered the intensive care unit with the young man by her side. Her heart broke as she thought of the young couple. What had happened to Hope Caffrey was horrible and no one, least of all a young, healthy, vibrant woman should have to face what she was about to face.

‘How long have you two been engaged?’ the doctor asked, making small talk as she guided Cameron to the small room Hope had been moved to.

Cameron glanced at his watch and looked at the kind doctor. ‘A little over twenty-four hours’ he said, his voice sad.

‘I’m _so_ sorry. You must still be on a high from your engagement.’

Cameron sniffed and wiped his eyes. ‘Finding out the woman you love is fighting for her life kind of takes the wind out of your sails.’

Dr. Morrison stopped in front of the closed door and looked up at the young man. ‘I want to prepare you… the left side of her face is very damaged and she’s on a respirator. But she's not in any pain, all right? Do you want me to go in with you?’

Cameron shook his head, unable to speak.

‘Just a few minutes, okay?’ she admonished.

Cameron peeked into the tiny room, barely big enough to accommodate all the medical equipment that was presently keeping Hope alive. He took a few tentative steps into the room and his first thought was that the doctor had mistakenly led him into the wrong room.

He let out a gasp that morphed into a sob as he stepped in a little closer and finally got a look at his beloved Hope’s face. She looked like one of those bizarre half-man, half-woman you saw at the circus. The right side looked much like it had that morning as she’d slept in his arms but the left side was so badly damaged, there was barely nothing left to recognize. Adding to the jarring sight was the large tube down her throat, her mouth held obscenely open as the nearby respirator pumped away loudly, Hope’s chest rising and falling to its rhythm.

‘Hope, sweetie…’ he said, his voice breaking.

Except for the twisted face, she seemed oddly peaceful, her arms placed perfectly still on top of the crisp hospital sheets. Cam’s eyes were drawn to her left hand, one of the few body parts that appeared to have been spared from the terrible ordeal. Her ring sparkled on her finger and Cam reached out to take her hand in his, rubbing her knuckles gently as he spoke.

‘I’m here’ he said, sobbing as he spoke. ‘I’m here… I’m not going anywhere.’

WCWCWC 

Neal sat on the couch in the small waiting room with Sara by his side, both of them silent as they waited for their turn to go in and spend a few minutes with Hope. It was now past two in the morning and although they were both exhausted, sleep was the furthest thing from their minds. Neal’s head throbbed as it had all night, remnants of his own tumble onto the hard pavement.

‘I keep asking myself… what I could have done to keep this from happening’ he murmured as Sara’s eyes came up to meet his.

‘Don’t honey… don’t. Don’t do this to yourself’ she said, her voice shaking.

‘Maybe if I hadn't been teasing her just before it happened… or if I’d been paying more attention…’ he let his voice trail as Sara brought her arm to rest on his back.

His eyes came up to meet hers, red and bloodshot. ‘She pushed me out of the way…’

‘What do you mean?’ Sara said at the new piece of information.

‘She saw the car coming and she yelled at me… then she came towards me and she pushed me down… dammit, why couldn't it have been me?’ he whimpered as tears started to fill his eyes once again.

‘Neal, stop it! Don't say that, I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you.’

‘You know, that night at the gallery… I would have done anything to keep her safe…’ he murmured.

‘And you _did_ , honey, you did. You took a bullet for Hope that night’ Sara recalled, all the pain and anguish resurfacing.

‘Then… why couldn't I keep her safe tonight?’ Neal said as he shook his head. ‘It should have been me, not her.’

Sara’s arms came up to envelop him, Neal’s body shaking as she held him close. ‘You can’t do this to yourself, Neal, you can’t. You’ll just tear yourself apart’ she whispered as she felt him sobbing against her trembling body.

She pulled away to look into his eyes and ran her hand down his cheek, wiping the tears that were now pouring down. ‘We have to concentrate on what we can do for Hope.’

Neal shook his head; it was all too much to take in.

‘We’ll find a way… we’ll get through this…’ she said as she held onto his arm.

They were interrupted by Peter who appeared carrying a tray of coffee and sat across from them, his hair disheveled, his eyes puffy, looking like he’d been hit by a Mac truck.

‘El’s going to head out to White Plains… in case the kids need anything’ he said, watching as Neal composed himself and wiped his eyes.

‘The kids!’ Sara exclaimed. ‘We’re going to have to tell them what happened’ she said as she imagined poor Liam’s reaction to his big sister’s horrible accident.

‘Look guys, I don’t think it does anybody any good for you to sit here for hours on end. You won’t be able to see Hope for more than a few minutes and… the doctor’s right, you need to get some rest’ Peter said.

He wasn't even finished talking and he could see Neal shaking his head. ‘I’m not leaving her here alone’ he declared, his voice strong.

Peter exchanged looks with Sara, whose eyes were empty in a way he’d never seen. They both adored their daughter but Neal… well, Neal and Hope were connected in a way one rarely saw. From the moment he'd first held her in his arms, he’d bonded with his newborn daughter. She’d been a lifeline of sorts, his way out of all the poor choices he'd made in his life. Even her name reflected his optimism for the future, his future and hers. Peter could only imagine the overwhelming feelings of pain and anguish his best friend might be feeling as he sat there, heartbroken. 

The door to the room opened and Cam stepped in, taking a seat, eyes downcast. He’d obviously been crying; his eyes were red, his face pale. He took the cup of coffee Peter offered him and he settled in, long legs stretched in front of him.

‘The nurse said you could go in now’ he said, turning towards Neal and Sara. ‘But no more than five minutes.’

Neal and Sara stood and Peter watched as they grabbed for each other’s hand, no doubt trying to find the strength needed to walk into that room. They made their way down the short hallway to the ICU and Neal stopped short of the door, holding Sara’s back.

‘Honey, it’s bad’ he said as she frowned in response. ‘I just… I think you should prepare yourself. She… she doesn't look like herself.’

Sara let out a soft moan and Neal pulled her in, holding her close for a moment while she collected herself. After a few seconds, she pulled away and wiped her eyes, nodding that she was ready and Neal opened the door to the quiet room.

The room was dimly lit and except for the repetitive sound of the respirator and some soft beeping monitors, it was perfectly quiet and still. Neal and Sara made their way to opposite sides of the bed and gave each other one last glance before casting their eyes down to look at their beautiful daughter. To her credit, Sara managed to stifle a gasp as her eyes fell on a face she barely recognized, the left side caved in yet swollen in places, discoloured and distended. She swallowed hard and brought her hand to Hope’s hair which was matted and had been tied back randomly, not doubt to let the doctors better examine her.

Neal stared down at his little girl who despite the jarring disfigurement, seemed strangely peaceful and he somehow took comfort in knowing she wasn't in any pain.

‘Hope’ he whispered, his voice shaky. ‘I’m here with Mom… we love you, sweet pea…’

Sara took a deep breath. ’Daddy and I… we’re going to be here for you. And you’ll come back to us, honey… I know you will’ Sara said, her voice surprisingly strong.

Neal glanced up at his wife, seeing the pained look in her eyes and he couldn't take another moment of the anguish he saw reflected there. 

He uttered a mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ and Sara watched, in surprise as he turned to leave the room without looking back. 

She stood alone for a moment, watching Hope with the grotesque tube in her mouth, her body perfectly still on the narrow bed and she leaned down to kiss the top of her head. She shook uncontrollably as she reached into her purse and pulled out a hairbrush, smoothing out her daughter’s thick mane of hair, careful not to move her head in any way.

‘There you go…’ she said, her voice choked. ‘I’ll be back later.’

WCWCWC

By the time Sara stepped out of Hope’s room, Neal had disappeared from sight. She made her way back to the small waiting room to find Peter and Cam there, sipping coffee with their eyes vacant - but no sign of Neal.

‘Neal’s not here?’ she asked needlessly as they looked up at her.

It wasn't terribly surprising that Neal would need a few minutes alone to collect himself and Sara took a seat between the two men, glancing up at Peter.

‘Did you want to go in and see her?’ she asked.

Peter stared back as if he hadn't anticipated the question. He wasn't sure how he felt about going in to see his goddaughter. In some ways, if he didn't see her in the horrible condition the doctor had described, maybe he could put off believing this horrible thing had really happened for a little bit longer.

‘I’ll let her rest for now’ he said, feeling that his place was with Sara and Cameron now that Neal was missing in action.

To Sara’s unspoken question, Peter brought his arm to rest around her shoulder. ‘He’ll be back.’

WCWCWC

Neal made his way down to the front entrance of the hospital, stepping out into the cold night air. The rain had stopped but the air was cool and he shivered in his shirt sleeves, having left his coat up in the waiting room. It didn't matter; he _needed_ to feel the harsh cold against his skin, to feel something other than the desperation he'd been feeling for the past several hours. He made his way to a nearby bench and sat down, glad for the temporary respite from the suffocating confines of the hospital.

His eyes swept his field of vision and he noticed a few cars arriving in the nearby parking lot despite the late hour and an ambulance flew by with its siren blaring as it made its way around the back towards the emergency room. Quiet resumed and Neal let his head fall into his hands as he attempted to clear his mind. A few hours ago, Hope was blissfully happy, full of life, on her way to a wonderful adventure with the man she loved and now… well, now, her future was so uncertain.

Even in the best case scenario, she was facing months and years of rehabilitation, and likely physical and mental limitations for the rest of her life. Would she ever be able to go back to school? What about her tremendous talent as an artist? Would she ever paint again? Hell, would she ever talk or walk again, would she remember her life from before, would she be the same person she’d been just hours ago?

Neal replayed the scene in his mind, watching Hope’s face grow dark as danger loomed nearby. Why hadn't he reacted immediately? If he'd only seen the car coming, she wouldn't have felt compelled to reach out for him, to push him out of harm’s way.

No, no. This wasn't how things were supposed to happen. Parents looked out for their kids, kept them safe and away from danger not the other way around. He'd tried to do that for Hope and Liam ever since he'd been entrusted with their wellbeing all those years ago. That was _his_ job, not hers.

Overcome with despair, Neal began to sob into his hands. Life as they'd known it was gone forever, all in the literal blink of an eye.

And it was all his fault.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Sara stood from the table and began to place the lunch dishes in the dishwasher, moving by rote, her body going through the motions, her senses dulled, her body numb. 

When she and Neal had finally made it home at six in the morning, they’d sent Elizabeth on her way and had headed up to bed although neither one of them had been able to get any sleep. Neal had been quiet… _so_ quiet… _too_ quiet. She knew he was reliving those fleeting moments just before the impact, agonizing about what he could have possibly done to keep the horrible accident from happening. They had laid in each other’s arms, their breathing shallow as they’d tried to make some sense of a basically senseless situation. Sleep had been elusive for them both as horrifying images had continued to compete in their overactive minds. 

Sara stared down at her hands, noticing they were shaking as she reached for a cup on the kitchen counter and she listened for sign of life upstairs. She heard the familiar sound of Neal’s footfalls and the banging of the water pipes as the shower was turned on and she returned her attention to the mundane task of tidying up the kitchen.

Hope was a healthy, beautiful young woman with a bright future and now, through some freak accident, her life had taken a tragic turn from which she might never recover. The doctors had couched the prognosis for recovery in cautious optimism but there were still so many unanswered questions and Sara had begun to jot them down in preparation for their meeting with the specialists at two o’clock that afternoon. 

Liam’s reaction, as expected, had been quiet and stoic, keeping everything inside as he always did. Their son was not one for histrionics but he’d asked if he could come along with his parents to the afternoon meeting, hoping to have a few precious moments with his older sister. Caitlin, on the other hand, had reacted with anger and a call for retribution, focussing on the accident itself and the fact that whoever had done such a horrible thing was the scum of the earth and deserved to rot in jail.

Caitlin was being dispatched to spend some time with her surrogate grandmother at the nursing home while the rest of the family headed out to the hospital. Neal was in no shape to see his mom, barely coping with events as it was. Sara had called her mother-in-law and filled her in on what had happened, holding back on the more dramatic description of Hope’s injuries. She’d somehow managed to stay upbeat throughout the phone call although Linda Bennett was no fool. After a promise to visit in the next few days, Sara had suggested Caitlin go over to spend some time with her and Linda had been appreciative of the gesture. Her offer to pray for Hope had left Sara in bits and she’d hung up the phone precipitously before she completely dissolved into tears. 

Sara heard the sound of the shower being turned off followed by her husband’s footsteps as he ostensibly headed back to their bedroom to get dressed. She worried about him almost as much as she worried about their daughter. He’d downplayed his head injury but she knew he was having severe headaches since his unfortunate and up close encounter with the pavement the night before. But more worrisome than his physical injury, was the torture she could read on his face as he continued to take the blame for the horrible accident and its aftermath.

Cameron’s off the cuff comments the night before hadn't helped - although no one could blame the young man for his emotional reaction to finding out the woman he loved had been so tragically torn from his side. Still, the last thing Neal needed was to have his loved ones blaming him for what had happened to Hope. He was doing more than enough of that himself, thank you very much.

Sara heard movement up in the bedroom above her head and she brought her hand to her face, noticing the tears flowing freely as they'd been doing pretty well non-stop since the night before.She grabbed some tissues and wiped her eyes and blew her nose in preparation for Neal’s appearance - she had to be strong for the both of them. 

WCWCWC

‘Thanks John. I really appreciate it. Can you keep me posted?’ Peter said as he hung up the phone.

‘Anything?’ Elizabeth asked, searching his eyes.

Peter shook his head. He'd been on the phone most of the day trying to get some information from the 41st precinct whose officers had been dispatched to the scene the night before. Despite Peter’s credentials as an ex-FBI agent, they hadn't been very forthcoming with information and it had taken a desperate call to one of his Brooklyn contacts to find out that the two witnesses had been unable to give much of a description of the car and that the investigation was ‘ongoing’.

‘Apparently, they didn't get much from the witnesses but they’ve put the word out to car repair shops in the area. The witnesses said the windshield was shattered by the impact…’ Peter answered sombrely.

Elizabeth listened, her eyes filling with tears as the image formed in her mind. It was difficult to link the image of a shattered windshield with her beloved goddaughter who was so full of life. El left her spot behind the kitchen counter where she’d been stress baking all day and she joined Peter in the dining room, her arms wrapping around his back.

‘Honey, you should try to get some rest. You’ve been up all night’ she said. 

Peter turned to look into her sad eyes. There wasn't a whole lot they could do for Hope right at the moment and it was driving him crazy. The least he could do was use his contacts to try to find out who had done this horrible thing and to help bring the perpetrator to justice.

‘I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to’ he said as he stepped into El’s open arms. ‘I just feel so helpless.’

‘We all do. But you're doing everything you can to find out who's responsible for this.’

‘Yeah, well… that’s not going to bring Hope back to us the way she used to be…’ he said as he felt his throat tighten.

‘Peter, stop, we don't know yet how bad it’s going to be. It’s still early days. She could still make a full recovery’ El said as she ran her hand up and down his back.

Peter pulled away to look at his wife. He appreciated her optimism but he knew deep down Hope would never be the same again.

‘Neal’s a mess… he’s never going to be able to forgive himself… or to get the image of her body slamming into a windshield out of his mind’ he said, his voice soft.

Elizabeth grimaced as the unwanted image flashed into her mind once more.

’When are they going to let us see her?’ El asked, her voice choked up.

‘Not until they move her into a regular room, after they operate sometime tonight or tomorrow.Neal and Sara are meeting with the doctors this afternoon to get more information. Sara said she’d call when they knew more…’ Peter said.

‘How’s Cameron doing?’ she asked, searching his eyes.

‘Not good. Sara said they couldn't get him to leave the hospital last night and when they went back after lunch, he was still there.’

‘Poor kid. He's crazy about her…’ Elizabeth said as tears filled her eyes.

‘Is that for them?’ Peter asked as he pointed to the kitchen counter, spilling over with dishes and casseroles.

Elizabeth gave him a sad smile. ‘I can’t think of anything else I can do to help.’

WCWCWC

‘Maybe I should go in and just say hi’ Neal said as he stopped the car by the front entrance of the Blue Skies Nursing Home.

‘Honey, we don't have time. Our meeting is a 2:00’ Sara reminded him as he nodded slowly.

The back door of the car opened and Caitlin prepared to step out into the sunny Friday afternoon.

‘Just don’t overdramatize…’ Sara warned as she rolled down her window to give her foster daughter one last word of caution. Caitlin was certainly a fan of hyperbole and a drama queen to boot. ‘Try to keep things upbeat and remind her that we’ll be in to visit as soon as we can.’

‘I’m not stupid’ Caitlin moaned. ‘… but neither is Grandma.’

‘I just… well, I don't want her to worry when there’s nothing she can do…’ Sara explained.

Caitlin smiled at her foster mom and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Grandma… just say hi to Hope for me’ she added, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

The car pulled away and Caitlin waved. She had an important job to do.

WCWCWC

_Hope turned the corner to find another endless row of lockers, pale yellow lockers with the locks built in. She took a deep breath and started down the long, quiet corridor following the muffled voices she heard somewhere off in the distance. She took a running start, anxious to get to the end but she ran out of breath after a few moments and she slowed the pace as the long corridor stretched out in front of her. The voices seemed to be growing louder although they were undecipherable, muffled and steady. She couldn't quite remember why she was there but she knew she had to keep moving in order to find what she’d come for. She accelerated the pace and continued down the hallway, glancing at locker number 2703 to her right. 2703… 2703… 2703. She kept repeating the number out loud, over and over and over again until it became a chant 2703…2703… 2703…which she repeated in cadence as she started to skip down the corridor, 2703… 2703… 2703, noticing the end was finally in sight.From a distance, she could see the hallway ending in a T… 2703… 2703… 2703… with an opening on either side._

_Finally, she arrived at the end of the seemingly endless corridor and glanced to her right, then to her left… 2703… 2703… 2703…_

_On either side, to her consternation were two other endless hallways lined with pale yellow lockers._

WCWCWC

This time, the meeting room was on the neurological ward on the 8th floor and Neal, Sara and Liam made their way down the corridor lined with hospital rooms on either side. It was eerily quiet on the floor, considering the fact that it was the middle of the afternoon on a Friday and the only voices heard were those from the nearby nursing station where a couple of men in lab coats were comparing notes.

Cameron was already sitting in the room when they walked in, looking even worse than he’d looked the night before now that it was broad daylight. He glanced up when the Caffreys walked in and Sara made her way over to him as he stood to give her a hug.

‘Did you get any rest?’ she asked although the answer was as plain as the bags under his eyes.

‘I sat down in the ICU waiting room most of the morning and they let me in to see her for a couple of minutes before I came up.’

Cam gave Neal and Liam a cursory glance and waved weakly in their direction as they all sat down to wait for the doctors’ arrival. 

‘Did you talk to any of the doctors this morning?’ Neal asked as he took a spot between Sara and Liam.

‘No… but the nurses were good. They brought me coffee and a muffin and they said there was no change…’ Cam said, looking like someone had kicked him in the teeth and run away with his puppy.

Two of the doctors they'd met with the previous night stepped into the room along with a couple of younger looking women who all took a spot at the table.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Caffrey, Cameron’ said Dr. White, the man who had come to Sara’s rescue the night before. He glanced over at Liam, the newcomer, and gave him a small smile.

‘This is our son, Liam’ Neal volunteered in response to his questioning look. ‘He was hoping he could spend a few minutes with his sister.’

Dr. White nodded. ’I think we could probably arrange that…’ he said with a kind smile. Thank you for being here. We wanted to give you an update on Hope’s condition. Nothing much has changed although we’re continuing to monitor her progress using the Glasgow coma scale we mentioned last night. There is some progress…’ he added, his voice deliberate as he glanced down at his notes.

‘The scale is used to measure three key components so we can assess the depth of Hope’s state of unconsciousness at any given time. When Hope was evaluated at the scene on Thursday night by the EMTs, she scored a total of 6 out of 15 on the scale.’

Everyone leaned in to listen and wait for a more detailed explanation as to what those numbers meant.

‘The scale measures three things: eye opening, verbal response and motor response…’

‘But her eyes are closed…’ Cam interrupted as he struggled to understand.

‘That’s true but we measure whether she responds to sounds or to pain and in Hope’s case, she’s opening her eyes in response to pain stimuli.’

Neal spoke up, his face contorted. ‘Does that mean she’s in pain?’ he asked, his voice uneven.

‘No, it just means that when we use what’s called the trapezius squeeze which is grasping the muscle right here where the neck meets the shoulder and squeezing…’ he explained as he touched his neck to demonstrate ‘…Hope responds by opening her eyes and that gives her a score of two.’

‘Two out of… how much?’ Sara couldn’t help but ask.

‘Out of four’ Dr. White explained, patiently. ‘Four being normal… and responding by opening her eyes spontaneously in response to her environment. When the test was administered at the crash site, she’d only scored a one.’

Sara nodded in understanding. ‘The second part of the test is verbal response and it goes from a five if the person is awake and conversing normally to a one when there is no verbal response whatsoever. When Hope was first assessed, she scored a one and now, we’ve begun to notice she’s making some incomprehensible sounds despite the fact she has a breathing tube. That’s moved her up to a two which is encouraging and we hope that we’ll be able to take her off the respirator which will allow us to better assess her verbal responses.’

‘What does all of this have to do with Hope… with her getting better?’ Cameron asked.

‘Well, the coma scale is an important tool in evaluating her chances of coming out of the coma and it helps to predict the state she’ll be in if… and when she finally regains consciousness.’

Cameron was getting agitated; all this mumbo jumbo wasn't helping him to better understand what Hope’s prognosis was.

‘So, she scored a four?’ Neal asked, struggling to understand. ‘But, you said she was getting better and that she scored a six right after the accident.’

Dr. White looked from one worried face to another. ‘Please, let me finish’ he said. ‘The third and final part of the test measures motor response and that is where the findings in Hope’s case are very encouraging. The motor response is important because it measures the body’s physical response to pain. What we find is that, in cases where there is no response whatsoever to pain stimuli, there is a good chance the brain stem has been compromised and that the patient will likely not recover full functioning of the brain. Hope is responding to stimuli by withdrawing from pain. She’s able to bend her arm towards the source of pain which is rated a four out of six on motor response which is probably the single most telling part of the test. 

‘So, now her score is eight?’ Sara asked, making sure she’d gotten the gist of the lengthy explanation.

‘It is…’ Dr. White said. ‘And a score of eight is very encouraging. We’ll continue to monitor her progress and assess her responses every few hours. Hopefully, as the pressure on her skull continues to decrease, her responses will improve.’

Neal grabbed for Sara’s hand and squeezed; it sounded like a lot of medical jargon but it _was_ encouraging news… just not the kind of breakthrough news they’d been hoping for.

‘Dr. Jimenez and her team want to talk to you about the surgery we’d like to do on Hope’s face to alleviate the obstructions and hopefully help her breathe on her own again’ Dr. White said as all eyes turned towards the orthopaedic surgeon who'd been sitting there patiently.

The small woman looked up at the group as she spoke. ’I’ve had a good look at Hope’s x-rays and I would recommend that we let her collar bone heal on its own at this point. But I am concerned about her pelvic fracture and the break in her left tibia. Before things start to set, I would like to realign the broken bones so they’ll heal correctly.’ she said as the group listened intently.

‘But more importantly, we need to address the fractures in her face so we can remove the obstructions which are making it impossible for her to breathe on her own.’

Sara glanced at Liam, whose eyes were glazing over. It was an awful lot of information for a young kid and she leaned over to touch his back just as Neal spoke.

‘Will she feel anything?’ he asked, his face contorted with worry.

‘Despite the fact that Hope is unconscious, we would proceed as we would with any other conscious patient and we’ll administer a general anaesthetic. That’s standard practice in a situation like this.’

‘When would you do this?’ Cameron asked.

‘Tonight. I have a whole team prepped’ said the orthopaedic surgeon with a soft smile. ‘Now, I want to warn you that this surgery doesn't address any of the aesthetic issues involved. That, we’ll have to think about somewhere down the road but for the time being, we will get the bones of her face realigned so she can breathe properly and hopefully, we’ll be able to take her off the respirator.’

Everyone let out a sigh of relief; that sounded encouraging although it was a small first step on a very long journey.

The doctor was moving around some papers and she placed some documents in front of Neal and Sara, pointing as she spoke. ‘Of course, there is always risk with any kind of surgery, especially when the patient is as compromised as your daughter is at the moment. We need you to give informed consent if you want us to proceed with the surgery I’ve just described’ she said as she looked from Neal to Sara.

Their eyes went immediately to Cameron. Although they were Hope’s parents and the decision was theirs to make, they could not, in good conscience, give their okay without getting his input.

‘Cameron?’ Sara said, leaving the question unspoken.

He swallowed and nodded and within seconds, Neal had sealed Hope’s fate with a flick of a pen.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

‘Here Grandma, let me get that for you’ Caitlin offered as she grabbed the cup of tea her grandmother had awkwardly been reaching for.

‘Thank you, sweetheart’ Linda responded.

She took the cup from Caitlin’s hands and cradled it against her chest - although nothing could take away the sudden chill she felt at the thought of her lovely granddaughter fighting for her life in hospital.

‘How’s Neal doing with all this?’ Linda asked, her heart breaking as she thought of the unwavering love her son had for his children. 

‘I don’t know’ Caitlin admitted. ‘He’s been so quiet… it’s not like him at all.’

Linda Bennett gave the young woman a sad smile as she thought of what Neal and Sara might be going through, watching their daughter suffer so needlessly.

‘I think he blames himself for what happened to Hope’ Caitlin added as Linda’s eyes narrowed in response. ‘He was with her when it happened and….’

The older woman let her head fall back on her rocking chair, shaking her head. ‘Guilt is a terrible thing… it can destroy you if you let it. It almost destroyed me’ she added as she watched the curiosity on the young woman’s face.

‘I blamed myself for a long time for not being there for Neal when he was growing up’ she admitted as Caitlin moved in closer, eyes locked on the old lady.

Her foster dad had never shared anything about his past or his youth and Caitlin had always been curious as to why he’d been estranged from his mom all those years. She waited for Linda to go on.

‘Neal’s dad… he left us when Neal was just three years old and I was left alone to raise a bright, energetic little boy’ she began. ‘I was bitter and angry and I turned all that bitterness against myself and… well, let’s just say I’m not very proud of the mother I was to him.’

‘But Mr. C. is crazy about you’ Caitlin argued.

‘That’s because Neal is a very loving and forgiving man’ Linda responded, suddenly looking weary. ‘He took the high road and decided to let go of the past and focus on the future.’

‘Why are families so complicated…’ Caitlin mused as she thought of her own sordid past with her mom. If Neal had managed to forgive his mom, maybe she needed to do the same with hers.

‘Sweetie…’ Linda said as she took Caitlin’s hand in hers. ‘We need to be there for Hope… and for Neal and Sara. What they’re going through is horrible and they’re going to need our support for the next little while.’

Caitlin nodded in response.

‘I need you to promise me you’ll be strong and stand by them… and _not_ get into any more trouble’ Linda began as Caitlin looked away, embarrassed.

‘You know, I’m not going to be around forever…’ the older woman added as Caitlin’s face fell.

‘Don’t say that’ Caitlin whimpered as she drew closer and put her arm around her grandmother.

‘We have to face reality, Caitlin… and not be afraid’ Linda whispered. ‘Let’s just enjoy the time we have together and that way, we won't have any regrets.’

Caitlin placed her head in the crook of Linda’s neck, careful not to jostle her and she let out a soft whine. The Caffreys were her family now and, if anything, Caitlin Somersby was fiercely loyal to the ones she loved.

WCWCWC

Shortly before 5:00, one of the ICU nurses reappeared in the small waiting room to collect Liam. The young man had asked for a few minutes with his sister and despite his apprehension at seeing her in such a vulnerable state, he wasn't about to back down.

‘Come on, I’ll go with you’ Sara said as she stood and put her arm around her son.

Liam glanced at his dad, noticing he seemed to be miles away.

‘Dad?’ he said as Neal snapped back to reality. 

‘I’m good, buddy, you go ahead with Mom’ he answered as he looked over at Cam, who appeared to be lost in thought.

Sara walked over to where Neal sat and leaned down to kiss the top of his head while he forced himself to smile back at her. ‘Give her a kiss for me’ he whispered, his voice unsteady.

Mother and son stepped out into the hallway and made their way towards the intensive care unit where Hope was still ensconced in one of six small rooms. The nurses waved them by as Sara and Liam made their way over to her room, opening the door quietly although there was no danger whatsoever of waking the room’s occupant.

‘You’re sure you’re ready?’ Sara asked, recalling how difficult it had been to first lay eyes on Hope.

Liam nodded and walked in resolutely, standing by the bed and looking down at his sister without batting an eye. No matter her current state, she remained one of the strongest women he knew and he wasn't about to let her present vulnerabilities change his opinion of her.

‘Hey, Mellon girl!’ he called out playfully.

Sara smiled sadly at his use of the nickname he’d given her since she’d moved to Pittsburgh.

‘Got yourself in a little bit of a pickle, huh?’ he continued, his voice strong, as Sara wiped her eyes. ‘Luckily, the doctors know what they’re doing and they’re going to start by getting that breathing tube out of your throat so you can start complaining about the food around here.’

Sara smiled at the off the cuff comment, so proud of the warm, loving relationship between their two great kids.

‘Dad says ‘ _Break a leg_ ’ but I guess you kind of took that literally, huh?’ he said with a soft laugh as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

‘I love you’ Sara heard him whisper above the sound of the respirator.

WCWCWC

The two men sat opposite each other in the small waiting room, their quiet breathing the only audible sound. They were different in so many ways, yet they shared an unwavering love for the young woman who lay nearby, broken in a million pieces.

Neal looked up at Cameron, noticing the same pain and anguish he was feeling deep down in his gut mirrored in the young man’s eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Cameron…’ Neal said, his voice quiet.

Cam looked up at the older man. He knew Neal was suffering too and yet he couldn't help but feel betrayed by the man whose job it had been to watch over Hope for the first twenty years of her life.

‘I just… I don't understand how this happened’ Cam admitted. ‘How you… how you could _let this_ happen…’

His hurtful words stung and Neal let out a soft gasp despite the fact that Cameron hadn't said anything Neal hadn't already been asking himself repeatedly for the past twenty-four hours.

‘It just… it happened so fast. One minute, we were joking around, laughing and the next… she was pushing me out of the way’ Neal said as Cam’s eyes widened.

‘Didn’t you see the damn car coming?’ he asked as he struggled to understand.

Neal shook his head as his throat tightened up. Cameron was right. Why hadn't he heard the car coming? Why hadn't he reacted sooner? Why had it taken Hope pushing him out of the way and placing herself in the path of the oncoming car?

‘How come?’ the young man shouted, anger seeping into his voice.

‘I don’t _know_ Cam…’ Neal answered, his voice growing louder. ‘Don’t you think I’ve been asking myself that ever since it happened?’

Cam stood and began pacing, unable to hold Neal’s gaze. Hope’s dad was an easy target for his anger and his fury and the usually quiet and unassuming young man was beyond grief, seemingly unable to rein in his impulses. If Neal had only reacted more quickly, Hope would still be sitting next to him and they would be making plans for him to come visit her in Pittsburgh, not talking about whether or not she would live through the night.

Neal stood to join the younger man, reaching out to touch his shoulder as Cam pulled away abruptly.

‘I love her too, you know’ Neal managed to say, his voice quivering. ‘And it’s killing me to know that I’m the reason she’s in there right now, fighting for her life.’

Cam gave Neal a harsh stare, a look of resentment that was so jarring, Neal took a step back as if he'd been physically shoved. He watched, dumbfounded, as Cameron tore his eyes away and turned towards the door.

‘I need to get some air’ Cam declared as he stepped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Neal let himself fall on a nearby chair, his hands instantly covering his face as he began to sob.

WCWCWC

By the time Peter and Elizabeth arrived at the hospital, the group sitting in the small waiting room had grown to include Mozzie, Olivia Mason and a blond woman they had never seen before sitting with her arm around Cameron’s shoulder.

The Burkes had swung by New Rochelle to pick up Caitlin and the trio had made their way back to the Bronx, carrying food and drinks for everyone. Elizabeth had packed up individual servings of comfort food - the only way she could think of to support their best friends as they faced a long night of sitting and waiting.

Neal and Sara stood upon seeing the Burkes arriving, hugs all around.

‘I’m so glad you’re here’ Sara said as Elizabeth held her arm. ‘Come, there’s someone I want you to meet.’

The blonde woman stood and gave Peter and Elizabeth a soft smile. There was something oddly familiar about her and when Cameron stood to join her, the reason became clear instantly. 

‘I’m Bonnie Armstrong’ the woman told the newcomers as she put out her hand.

‘This is my mom’ Cam added although no explanation was required. She had the same dark, kind eyes as her son and although she was petite next to his imposing height, their colouring was practically identical.

’This is Mr. Burke. He’s part owner of the gallery with Mr. Caffrey’ Cameron explained.

‘It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Armstrong’ Peter said as he shook her hand.

‘Bonnie… please’ she said. ‘Cameron has told me so much about all of you. I’m just sorry we had to meet under such… trying circumstances.’

Peter smiled at the newcomer. ‘Well, Bonnie, you can be very proud of your son. He’s a fine young man and he’s become an important part of our extended family.’

Neal had been quiet, standing next to Sara. ‘Thanks for being here, everybody. It means a lot to Sara and me’ he said, putting his arm around his wife.

There was a chorus of ‘of course’, ‘wouldn’t be anywhere else’ and ‘no problem’ and everyone took a seat as Elizabeth began to unpack the large bags of food Peter and Caitlin had lugged in.

‘It’s going to be a long night and I made plenty of food for everyone so, dig in’ she said as the youngsters began to poke around the food containers, looking for their favourites. Liam and Mozzie, who had been sitting together like two peas in a pod, rose to help themselves.

‘Oh Moz’ El said as she pointed, ‘that’s a lactose free macaroni for you.’

Mozzie smiled in response; even under such stressful circumstances, El could be counted on to cater to everyone’s individual preferences and idiosyncrasies.

Peter glanced at his watch as he leaned in to speak to Neal. ‘What time is the surgery scheduled?’ he asked.

‘In about half an hour’ Neal answered, his voice flat. ‘They said we could see her for a minute before they bring her down.’

Peter’s hand went to Neal’s shoulder as he squeezed gently. ‘It’ll be fine. You’ll see’ he attempted as Neal let out a halting sigh.

They were interrupted by Dr. Jimenez who stood in the doorway, surprised at the number of people who had crammed into the small waiting room.

‘This must be the Hope Caffrey fan club’ she said with a kind smile.

‘It’s a small part of it’ Sara said, standing to welcome her.

‘We’re about to bring Hope down to the OR if you’d like to come with me’ she said, motioning to Neal, Sara and Cameron.

Everyone exchanged nervous glances as the three of them left the room. 

They made their way down the corridor towards the ICU - hopefully for the last time.With any luck, Hope would be moved to a regular room and would be breathing on her own by the time the surgery ended. Cameron gave his soon-to-be in laws a furtive glance and they nodded, watching as he headed in while Sara and Neal hung back to speak to the doctor.

‘How long will the surgery last?’ Neal asked.

‘Anywhere from five to six hours’ she explained. ‘I’ve got three other specialists working with me, considering we’re doing four surgeries in one’ she began as she noticed the look of discouragement in Neal’s eyes. ‘And some doctors from Dr. White’s team will be in attendance to monitor her brain function.’

She could see her words were not doing much to reassure the couple and she brought her hand to rest on Neal’s arm.

‘It’s a _first_ step but it’s an important one. If we can get Hope breathing on her own, we can concentrate on monitoring her brain injury and her body can begin to heal.’

Sara nodded as she took Neal’s arm and squeezed. ‘Thank you, doctor’ she said.

Neal and Sara stood by the door, waiting for their turn to see their daughter. When they peeked in, they could see Cameron leaning down, whispering in Hope’s ear.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

‘I’ll be back in a minute’ Neal whispered into Sara’s ear as she startled.

‘Mmmmph’ she mumbled, half asleep, as he pulled his arm out from under her and slipped out of the waiting room and into the hallway.

His head was pounding and he needed to get out of the confined space and get some fresh air before his brain exploded. It was closing in on 11:00 p.m. and, except for one brief report from the operating room telling them the surgery was running long, they hadn’t had any other news and Neal was beyond restless.

He’d taken a few steps towards the exit when he heard a door close behind him, followed by the familiar voice of his best friend.

‘Neal, wait up’ came Peter’s voice as Neal stopped dead in his tracks.

He turned to look back at Peter who was sauntering over to catch up with him. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked as Neal squinted.

‘Just… I just need some air, that’s all’ he moaned as he resumed walking, this time with Peter at his side.

‘Mind if I come along. It’s getting a little claustrophobic in there.’

They walked in silence for a few steps. It was obvious Neal needed peace and quiet and Peter waited patiently for his best friend to speak first.

‘I’m just going to duck in here for a minute’ Neal said as Peter followed him into the washroom, to Neal’s chagrin. 

Neal stood in front of the sink and watched in the mirror as Peter headed for the urinals. He took out the small bottle of pills which had been prescribed for his head injury and let a couple of tablets spill into his hand before popping them in his mouth just as Peter returned to his side.

‘Your head, huh?’ he asked as he washed his hands.

‘Don’t tell Sara… she’ll just worry’ Neal mumbled as he scooped up some water in his hands and swallowed the pills.

‘Are you sure you don't want to have it checked?’ Peter asked as Neal rolled his eyes.

‘If I wanted to be nagged, I would have invited my wife along’ Neal said, deadpan as Peter lowered his eyes.

Neal was notorious for not coming clean when he wasn't feeling well - going back to when he'd been Peter’s CI all those years before. He’d always hated being doted on and he tended to put on a brave face even when he was feeling under the weather.

‘Sorry…’ Peter mumbled.

‘No, _I’m_ sorry’ Neal said as he turned to face him. ‘I shouldn't be taking any of this out on you.’

Peter shrugged. What was a little lapse in good manners between good friends?

‘I never thanked you for coming out last night when they called you…’ Neal continued.

‘I was glad to be there. It was all a little too much’ Peter responded.

‘Tell me about it’ Neal said as he gave a head nod towards the door.

The two men left the washroom, falling into step with each other as they continued down the corridor towards the elevator and down to the main floor. Peter knew Neal enough to know he wasn't telling him everything. Whether he was hiding something about his injury or he was upset about something, Neal was obviously not coming clean and Peter realized he was going to have to dig to figure what why Neal looked like he'd just lost his best friend.

‘Pretty intense in there, huh?’ Peter said as they arrived outside and settled side by side on a bench - the same one Neal had escaped to the previous night.

Neal gave him a sad look, eyebrows raised in response.

‘That was nice of Cam’s mom to come down to be with him’ Peter continued. ‘He’s pretty shook up.’

Neal nodded and Peter waited; maybe he was on to something. He waited ten seconds, fifteen…

‘Cam blames _me_ for what happened’ Neal finally blurted out.

‘What? Why?’ Peter asked, shaken by what Neal had just said.

Neal gave him a look of exasperation as if the answer was as plain as the nose on his face.

‘I was _there_ , Peter… I should have kept this from happening.’

‘How? By donning your cape and stopping the car with your arm of steel?’ he answered facetiously.

‘I should have _heard_ it… I should have heard the car coming. If only I’d -‘

‘Stop it Neal! Do you hear yourself? We both know you’d do anything to keep Hope safe - ‘ he began as Neal interrupted.

‘Oh, yeah?’ Neal answered sarcastically. ‘Like making sure she doesn't get thrown in the air by a speeding car?’

He stood, his eyes facing away from Peter. ‘Look… I appreciate the gesture but… I need some time to myself’ he said as he took a few steps.

He turned to glance at Peter who remained sitting on the bench, dumbfounded.

‘Tell Sara not to worry. I’ll… I’ll be back in a little while’ Neal said before walking away.

Peter watched Neal retreat, his shoulders drooping, his walk slow and sluggish. The guy hadn't slept in more than thirty-six hours. Add to that the fact that his darling little girl was fighting for her life and that her fiancé was blaming him for her injuries and it was no wonder Neal looked like death warmed over.

‘Neal!’ he called out in one last attempt to reach out to him.

But Neal didn't turn back, he just kept walking, shoulders slumped as Peter watched him leave.

WCWCWC

It was past 1:30 when Dr. Jimenez and Dr. White finally stepped into the waiting room. El had been snoozing with her head against Peter’s shoulder while he snored, his head fallen back against the wall behind him. Caitlin had been curled up next to Hope’s best friend, both of them sleeping soundly while Mozzie read. Bonnie Armstrong had fought to stay awake but both she and Sara had finally nodded off shortly after midnight. The only two who were still awake were Neal and Cam who sat in silence, each in their own individual hell.

Within a few seconds of the doctors’ arrival, everyone was on their feet as the newcomers prepared to report on Hope’s condition.

‘I’m sorry we went over time’ Dr. Jimenez said, her forehead glistening with sweat. ‘We ran into a few complications when we repaired Hope’s eye socket. There were quite a few splinters of bone we had to work around and remove… but we managed to get it all cleaned up.’

‘We monitored Hope’s brain injury throughout the surgery and she remained stable’ Dr. White reported as everyone let out a sigh of relief.

‘What about the breathing tube?’ Cam asked, a question that was on everyone’s mind.

‘We’ve brought her back to the ICU temporarily until the anaesthetic wears off and we’ll remove the tube tomorrow morning and see how she does without it.’

Dr. Jimenez spoke up, seeing the worried faces around the room. ‘I know you’re all worried but as far as the surgery is involved, it couldn't have gone much better. So, I suggest you all try to get some sleep. Hope is going to need you tomorrow and with any luck, she’ll be in a regular room by then and you can all have a chance to visit with her.’

‘Can we see her before we leave?’ Sara asked, her voice tense.

Dr. White looked at all the anxious faces. ‘The best we can do for Hope tonight is to let her rest and recuperate from the intense attack on her body.’

‘But…’ Cam began as Dr. White turned to look at the young man.

‘Cameron, Hope is going to need your support over the next few weeks and months. Believe me, the best thing you can do is to get some sleep, so you can be there for her tomorrow.’

Bonnie put a hand on her son’s arm in an attempt to mollify him. It had been an exhausting twenty-four hours and he needed to rest if he was going to be any good to his fiancée. The young man seemed to calm to her touch and reluctantly accept the doctor’s advice.

‘Thank you, Dr. White’ Neal said as everyone began to prepare to leave.

Sara hugged Olivia Mason and Elizabeth and within moments, the only people left in the room were members of the Caffrey family and Cameron and his mom.

‘Cameron?’ Sara said as she got closer. ‘Are you going to be all right?’

Neal watched as Cameron nodded, defeated.

‘You and your mom are welcome to come and stay at our house, if you’d like’ Sara offered.

Cam exchanged looks with his mom and shook his head. ‘It’s fine, Mom’s going to stay at my apartment… but thanks.’

‘Let’s talk tomorrow’ Neal said. ‘Maybe, we can work out some kind of a schedule… you know, take turns so Hope has someone with her all the time.’

‘That sounds like a good plan, Neal’ Bonnie said as she laced her arm in Cam’s. ‘We’ll see you in the morning.’

WCWCWC

Raffie stormed the front door the moment it was opened. He’d been alone since lunchtime and as good as he was, he was badly in need of a bathroom break.

‘Come on, Raffie!’ Caitlin called out as she grabbed for the leash by the front door.

‘Honey, why don't you go with her’ Sara suggested as Liam moaned in protest.

Neal and Sara made their way to the kitchen and Sara proceeded to put some food and fresh water out for the dog while Neal opened the refrigerator in search of something to drink.

‘Do you want some juice?’ he asked as he poured himself a glass.

‘No, thanks’ Sara answered, looking like she was ready to drop.

Neal reached out for her and she let herself melt into his arms, tears flowing as she felt her husband’s solid body against hers.

‘I still can’t believe this is really happening’ she whimpered as Neal rubbed her back. ‘It’s like a bad dream.’

‘I know…’ Neal whispered as he tried to control his breathing. It seemed that he was constantly on the verge of tears since the accident. Sara pulled away, reacting to his silence.

‘How’s your head?’ she asked, her voice faltering.

Neal shrugged. ‘It’s fine, honey, it’s fine.’ His pounding headache was the least of their problems.

‘Peter and El suggested we make up a roster… you know, so someone can be with her all the time’ he added by way of deflection.

Sara nodded. It was obvious this was going to be a long haul and if they wanted to continue to be there for their daughter, they would all have to learn to pace themselves. Then, there was the gallery to think about… and the school… and her job…

She looked into Neal’s eyes, seeing the weariness there. He’d been carrying the brunt of it and he was looking pale and exhausted.

‘Honey, no matter what’s going on around us, you _have to_ try to get some rest. You’re running on fumes’ she said as she ran her hand along his bandaged forehead.

‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine’ Neal insisted as he pulled away to check the back door just as the kids were coming back with the dog, wagging his tail. 

They all made their way upstairs, everyone dragging their feet as they made it to their respective bedrooms with Raffie following close behind, nipping at Neal’s heels.

Within minutes, Neal and Sara were laying side by side, arms around each other as their laboured breathing echoed through the silent house. This was now their new normal, going to bed in White Plains while Hope lay, miles away, in a hospital bed, her beaten body connected to machines and monitors.

Neal closed his eyes tightly, hoping to quiet his overactive mind which had been in overdrive ever since the accident. But, despite his efforts, the insistent ear worm he’d been struggling with returned with a vengeance. Those repetitive sounds he couldn't get out of his mind and the accompanying images - the BANG as Hope’s body slammed onto the hood of the car, the THUMP as it rolled off and hit the pavement.

_Bang…THUMP…Bang….THUMP… Bang…THUMP… Bang…THUMP… Bang…THUMP…_

He tried to steady his breathing and control the images that were playing over and over in a loop in his muddled mind. He could hear Sara’s breathing start to even out and once he was certain she had succumbed to sleep, he proceeded to disentangle his body from hers, thankful that she’d found some respite from their troubles.

_Bang…THUMP…Bang….THUMP… Bang…_ THUMP… 

He sat up, unable to take it anymore, holding his head in his hands as he stood unsteadily and made his way back downstairs.

His body was weary, his legs barely holding him up but his mind simply wouldn't shut down, sleep eluding him despite his weariness. He’d just made his way to the refrigerator to get a drink when his eyes moved to the kitchen cupboard that served as their liquor cabinet. He spotted the bottle of whisky he’d gotten as a Christmas gift from one of the teachers at the school and grabbed for a glass as he made his way over to the couch in the family room.

He turned on the television, keeping the volume turned low as he poured himself two fingers of the fine scotch. The warmth of the alcohol made its way down his gullet and he felt it spread through his body as he felt himself begin to relax.

_Bang…THUMP…Bang….THUMP… Bang…THUMP…_

He took another long sip of the amber liquid and refilled his glass a second time as he attempted to drown out the repetitive sounds coming from his subconscious and focus on the voices of Bogey and Bacall who were arguing melodramatically on the television screen.

_Bang…THUMP…Bang….THUMP… Bang…_

His body slumped as he felt the effects of the fine scotch reach his arms, his hands, his fingers and he finally began to relax as the monotonous sounds grew dimmer.

_Bang…THUMP…Bang….THUMP…_

Neal took a steadying breath, letting his head fall on the back of the couch as he finished off the contents of his glass. 

_Bang…THUMP…Bang…._

Finally, he felt his body letting go, his mind quieting as the sounds faded into the recesses of his chaotic mind.

_Bang…THUMP…_

Blissful sleep.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

‘Mr. C.?…Mr. C.!’ Neal heard as he came to.  
  
He was spread out on the couch, his arm flung over his face, his legs curled up against his body as he squinted to look up at the insistent presence standing in front of him.

‘Caitlin?’ he muttered as he came to, his face scrunched up in confusion.

‘Sara sent me down to wake you up. You need to get ready to go to the hospital’ she said as she moved to the kitchen.

‘The hospital?’ he mumbled before everything came back into focus.

The hospital… Hope. Neal swung his legs off the couch, feeling discomfort in pretty well every muscle of his body, to say nothing of his head which was still throbbing unrelentingly. He’d fallen asleep with the television on and although he was relieved to have finally gotten some rest, he'd somehow managed to trade the previous night’s exhaustion for sore, aching muscles.

‘Is she up?’ he asked as he rubbed his neck.

‘Sara. Is she up?’ he repeated as he stood and stretched his back, trying to loosen some of the kinks.

‘She’s in the shower’ Caitlin said as she reached for the cereal box in the cupboard. ‘The hospital called and said they’d be removing Hope’s breathing tube at 10:00 if you want to be there.’

The hospital called? Neal had been dead to the world and hadn't heard a thing despite being a mere ten feet away from the phone. He dragged himself towards the stairs, massaging his sore back just as Liam came down, fully dressed but looking a little worse for wear.

‘Did you manage to get any sleep?’ Neal asked his son.

‘Some… Dad, can I come to the hospital today?’

‘Sure you can. With any luck, they’ll be moving Hope to a regular room and visiting her will be a little easier.’

‘Good’ Liam said as he held up his iPod. ‘I downloaded some of her favourite songs. I thought she might like that.’

Neal reached over to run his hand down his son’s back.

‘That’s a great idea, buddy. She’ll love that’ he said as he stepped onto the stairs and headed up to get ready to face the day.

WCWCWC

_It was a beautiful day, the bright sun reflecting off the water in that way that made your eyes squint. She’d been jumping off the dock for the last half hour, squealing with glee every time she got airborne. She glanced back to see her dad and baby brother playing by the water, giggling as they built sand castles while her mom sat nearby, reading a book. It was pure bliss. She let out another roaring shriek and prepared to land the most phenomenal cannon ball in the history of cannon balls and she landed on the water with a loud thud as she felt her body begin to sink into the wonderfully cool water. But instead of softly touching the bottom of the lake with the tips of her toes and bouncing back up to the surface, she felt her foot catch on a reed, pulling insistently as she tried to break free. ‘Daddy!’ she screamed as she struggled to disentangle her foot from the insistent weed. ‘Daddy, Daddy!’ She could feel her throat tightening up as her air flow was cut off, her body sinking listlessly into the cool water. ‘Daddy! DADDY! DADDY!’ Why wasn't he coming for her? Stars appeared before her eyes as she began to slip away. ‘Daddy…’ she pleaded in silence until silence overcame her and there was nothing left._

WCWCWC

Neal, Sara and Cameron crammed into the small ICU room and waited for Dr. White to arrive. He'd agreed to let them be present while he removed her breathing tube; he saw it as a crucial step in her recovery and a milestone he deemed important for the immediate family to witness, a way of giving them confidence in what lay ahead.

Cam sat on the edge of Hope’s bed, lovingly running his hand through her hair as he spoke softly in her ear.

‘Hey sweetie’ he murmured as Neal and Sara watched from the foot of the bed. ‘It’s Saturday today and they’re going to remove your breathing tube so you can breathe on your own. You did great last night and you’re looking so much better this morning’ he fibbed as he continued to gently caress her hair.

The surgery had left her even more bruised and swollen than before but the left side of her face was no longer caved in as if she’d been sucker punched. Neal and Sara exchanged soft smiles as they took in the sweet, loving way in which Cameron was speaking to her, his touch gentle, his voice soft.

They were interrupted by the door opening as Dr. White made his appearance, looking dapper despite the late night he'd had.

‘Good morning everyone’ he said as he squeezed by Neal and took his place on the other side of Hope, right by the ventilator.

‘Our patient is looking much better today, don't you think?’ he asked, his voice optimistic. ‘We’ve been weaning her off the respirator for the past few hours, turning it off for increasingly longer periods of time and she's been doing great’ he said as he checked the data on the monitor.

‘Are you sure she’ll be able to breathe on her own?’ Cameron asked, sounding worried.

‘I can assure you we wouldn't be removing the tube if we didn't think that was the case’ said Dr. White reassuringly. ‘She’s moved up another notch on the GCS - up to a nine and as a rule, we don't extubate a patient who scores less than an eight.’

The doctor adjusted the monitor and waited for a moment or two as they all listened to the sounds of soft breathing.

‘Do you hear that? That’s Hope, breathing on her own’ he announced as everyone let out a sigh of relief. ‘Now, she may make some choking sounds when I remove the tube but that’s nothing to be concerned about. She just needs a few minutes to adjust to the airflow.’

Dr. White looked around at the three anxious faces. ‘Everybody okay?’ he asked as his hand moved in to begin the extubation process.

Cameron remained by Hope’s side, his hand gently stroking her hair as he watched in silence while Neal and Sara drew closer and wrapped their arms around each other while Dr. White proceeded to expertly remove the tube from Hope’s throat. As predicted, she made a few gagging sounds and her eyes flew open for a second as all three of them watched in awe.

‘She opened her eyes!’ Cameron exclaimed. ‘Can she see us?’ he asked excitedly.

‘Unfortunately, it’s just a reflex’ Dr. White explained as Cam’s shoulders slouched in disappointment. ‘But it’s a good sign, nonetheless.’

Hope made a few sputtering sounds as her breathing became more regular and the doctor proceeded to put an oxygen cannula on her face, tucking it in around the back of her head. ‘We’re going to keep her on oxygen for a while and see what her numbers are like’ Dr. White explained.

‘Will you still move her to another room?’ Sara asked.

‘I’d like to keep her here most of the day so we can monitor her breathing’ the doctor explained. ‘But if all goes well, we’ll move her to the eighth floor by dinner time.’

‘Thank you, doctor. Thank you very much’ Neal said as the man prepared to leave.

‘Now, don't overdo it. You can have a few minutes with her but no more than one of you at a time so she can get some rest’ he admonished as Neal and Sara followed him out of the room.

They stood out in the hallway for a moment, staring at each other with a look of relief. It was baby steps but still, it was _something_. Sara watched as her husband cringed and she knew from that look on his face that he was still in pain.

‘Neal, it’s been almost two days. I think we should have them look at your head again’ she said as she ran her hand up and down his arm.

‘Sara, they checked me out already. I just need to suck it up’ he said, dismissing her concern.

‘Honey, I’m not taking no for an answer. I already mentioned it to the nurses and they called down to the ER. They’re waiting for you down there and they want to send you for another MRI.’

‘You what?’ Neal said a little too loudly. ‘You went behind my back…’

Sara interrupted him, taking his hand in hers and leading him down the hallway.

‘So sue me!’ she said unwaveringly.

WCWCWC

By mid-afternoon on Saturday, Peter sat in the gallery working out a daily schedule for visits to Hope’s bedside. There was no point in all of them being there at the same time and considering her hospital stay was likely to last for weeks if not months, it would behoove everyone to carry on with some of their other occupations so they could at least attempt to hang on to their sanity.

Although there was still _some_ controversy about how much of their surroundings coma patients were actually aware of, Dr. White was a firm believer that, more often than not, patients could hear everything that was happening around them. He'd heard enough tales from patients who, upon regaining consciousness, recounted in vivid detail the discussions they'd heard their loved ones having by their bedside. Based on his advice, Neal and Sara had decided it was important to keep Hope company as much as possible in the hopes of keeping her grounded in reality.

Peter stared down at the large sheet of paper he'd subdivided into slots from early morning until late evening. Neal was an ‘up early in the morning’ kind of guy and Peter had slotted him in for a daily visit first thing in the morning. He and Elizabeth could easily arrange their schedule to do the noon to 3:00 time slot and Liam and Caitlin had signed up for a daily visit after classes. Sara wanted to do the dinner hour before heading home and Cameron had volunteered for evenings. Above and beyond that, friends and extended family members would be dropping by to visit on a regular basis - from Hope’s old high school chums to neighbours and acquaintances. 

The door to the gallery opened and to his surprise, there stood Cameron and Bonnie Armstrong, the last two people he'd expected to see there on this Saturday afternoon.

‘Hi!’ Peter called out. ‘Welcome to the Raphael.’

Cameron forced a smile and Bonnie looked around, eyes wide. ‘Wow! It’s beautiful!’ she said as she took in the look of the place.

To Peter’s unasked question, Cameron spoke up. ‘Mr. and Mrs. Caffrey are with Hope. Mom just wanted a chance to see where I work and then I’m going back to the hospital.’

‘Any change?’ Peter asked. He hadn't talked to Neal since they’d taken Hope off the ventilator earlier in the day.

‘No… she’s still breathing on her own’ Cameron said with a small smile.

‘That’s encouraging!’ Peter said as he stood to welcome the newcomer.

‘So, this is where you spend most of your waking hours’ Bonnie said as she wandered around the main floor. ‘I like it!’

‘It’s a labor of love’ Peter said as the petite woman began to examine the impressive art on the walls.

Peter could tell Cam’s heart wasn't in it. Ever since the accident, he'd been quiet and brooding and from what Neal had told him the night before, angry and spiteful. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to have a little chat with the young man and, without hesitation, Peter seized the moment.

‘Bonnie, I wonder… would you mind if I had a word with Cameron. You could head on up to the second floor and check things out. Martin is up there - you can introduce yourself.’

Bonnie’s eyes went from her son to Peter; there was obviously something going on between the two of them and she nodded as she made her way to the staircase at the far side of the gallery.

Whether it was instinct or just knowing Peter Burke’s fierce loyalty to his best friend, Cam seemed to pick up on Peter’s intention and he prepared for what was coming. He'd been downright disrespectful to his future father-in-law the night before and he damn well knew it.

‘Look, Cam. I know you’re upset…’ Peter began as he searched the young man’s dark, shiny eyes. ‘We all are.’

Cameron studied Peter Burke’s face. It was obvious he had some advice for him and he was about to share it with him whether Cam liked it or not.

‘You know, Neal is really struggling with all this. He’s somehow got it in his head that he's responsible for what happened to Hope.’

Cameron pulled his eyes away, embarrassed. He'd known from the moment he’d lashed out at Neal that he was stepping over the line and yet, he'd been unable to keep himself from saying those hurtful things he now bitterly regretted.

‘He loves Hope more than you can possibly imagine…’ Peter added.

Of course, Cameron knew that. He'd been watching those two together for the past three years, admiring their mutual respect, Hope’s unfailing admiration for her dad, his total devotion to his daughter. He'd always envied them their close relationship.

‘I know that…’ Cam finally said, looking directly at Peter. ‘I said some hurtful things to Mr. Caffrey last night and it’s been bothering me ever since. I was upset and… I just don't know how to make it up to him.’

‘Two little words, Cam. That’s all it takes. Neal is a very forgiving guy but he's hurting and… well, we all need to pull together… for Hope’s sake’ Peter said as he brought his hand to the young man’s shoulder and squeezed.

Cam nodded, his face sad. He couldn't bear what was happening to the woman he loved and without a second thought, he’d carelessly lashed out at the easiest target he could find, her loving dad.

‘I’m sorry Mr. Burke’ Cam said, his eyes filling with tears.

‘I’m not the one you need to be saying that to.’

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Neal Caffrey’s annoyance with his wife lasted all of ten minutes. By the time they’d arrived in the imaging department of Bronx Lebanon Hospital, he had to admit he was relieved to be getting checked out once again - just in case. The original verdict, right after the accident, had been a concussion, not his first by any means. Neal had already suffered two very serious head injuries, the first, when he'd been involved in a car accident fifteen years earlier and again about five years after that when he and Peter had had an unfortunate encounter with a collapsed parking garage. Regrettably, he was used to pounding headaches, migraines and bothersome visual auras; they were just a fact of life, well, at least _his_ life.

He lay still and quiet in the MRI machine, eyes closed tight as he tried to keep his breathing even. The constant headaches over the years were more of a nuisance than anything else. Luckily, they only hit sporadically but when they did, he was often incapacitated for a few hours, unable to think clearly or put up with any noise or bright lights. The _worst_ part was that Sara coddled him and the _best_ part was…. that Sara coddled him. She would massage his temples, bring him cold compresses, cradle his head on her lap and run her hand gently through his hair doing her best to make it all better.

His mind wandered back to Hope and how she’d looked when they'd left her. It was a relief to see her breathing on her own and the doctor had reassured them that this was the first, albeit important, step in a long recovery.

The guilt and remorse he'd been feeling were unrelenting although he'd noticed that, during the day, when his mind and body were busy, it wasn't quite as bad or as debilitating. When darkness came however and most people settled in for a restful night’s sleep, his demons would come out and the relentless sounds and images would return to haunt him. He was grateful for that twelve year old scotch he'd imbibed the night before; it had temporarily muted the sounds that ran incessantly around his overactive mind.

He felt the table move under him and he opened his eyes as his body emerged from the imaging machine.

‘We’re done Mr. Caffrey’ said the male technician as he removed the blanket from Neal’s legs.

He got up, a little shaky - he hated that damn machine - and he made his way to join Sara who’d been waiting patiently just on the other side of the door. She looked up, her face tense and he made his way over to reassure her. She drove him crazy… in so many ways.

‘All done’ he said with a reassuring smile. ‘The doctor said he'd find us up in the ICU if we want to get back to Hope.’

‘Are you still pissed off at me Caffrey?’ Sara asked as Neal snaked an arm around her waist and winked.

‘What do you think?’ he asked as he led her away.

WCWCWC

Caitlin Somersby sat at the kitchen table in the Caffrey home, trying her very best to concentrate on her math homework - not an easy task considering her fierce dislike for the subject. She’d promised her adoptive grandmother she would buckle down and not give Neal and Sara any more trouble and she was hell bent on keeping her word. The Caffreys had been nothing but kind to her since the day she’d first stepped into the June Ellington School of Art. She thanked her lucky stars they hadn't given up on her yet despite her repeated attempts at driving them away. She glanced down at the latest e-mail she’d gotten from Children’s Services - a time and place to meet her mom, if she so chose.All she had to do was confirm that she would be there and hold her breath.

Her fingers hovered over the computer keys, about to respond, when the doorbell rang. She stood and followed Raffie to the door, his tail wagging as if whoever was at the door had come to visit him.

‘Cody!’ she exclaimed as she opened the door and spotted the young man standing there.

‘Hey Caitlin’ he called out, looking uncharacteristically nervous. ‘I was wondering… is Liam around?’ he asked as he peeked into the house.

‘No… everybody’s at the hospital. I guess you heard about…’ she said, leaving the words unspoken.

‘Yeah, I just found out. I thought… well, I thought Liam might like some company’ the young man said.

‘Well, he should be home soon. Why don't I ask him to call you when he gets in?’ she said as Raffie continued to sniff at the young man he recognized as a regular visitor to their home.

‘No, no. That’s okay… I’ll call him. Just tell him I’m thinking of him’ he said before turning and leaving.

Caitlin watched in silence as the young man started down the driveway before calling out. Maybe she could get some badly needed help with her math homework and play matchmaker at the same time.

‘Cody!’ she shouted as he turned around to look at her. ‘You’ve got Mr. Matheson for math don't you?’

‘Yeah…’ he answered, not quite sure where this was going.

‘I’m really struggling with that section on factoring polynomials. I don't suppose you have a few minutes to help me out?’ she asked innocently.

Cody shrugged and glanced down the street before turning back to face her. ‘Sure!’

Caitlin watched as he retraced his steps. ’Well, well, Raffie’ she mumbled as she patted the dog’s head. ‘Looks like that story’s not over after all.’

WCWCWC

The staff at the nursing station welcomed the couple back to the ICU and listened with interest as the two of them negotiated who would go in to see Hope first.

‘I think we can stretch the rules just this once’ said one of the nurses as she brought over a small bench and handed it to Neal. ‘This way you can both sit with your daughter.’

Neal and Sara settled in on either side of Hope, Sara leaning in to kiss her forehead ever so gingerly. ‘Hi sweetheart, we’re back’ she whispered.

Neal couldn't help but notice that, despite the bruising and the cast on her leg, she looked peaceful and calm and her breathing appeared strong and steady.

‘She looks surprisingly peaceful’ he ventured as his hand found Hope’s and squeezed. ‘Do you think she can hear us?’

‘I like to think she can’ Sara said as her eyes moved to seek out Neal’s. She could see the pain there, the unmistakeable anguish at having to witness their beautiful girl in such a state. ‘She’ll wake up, Neal. I _know_ she will.’

He let out a shaky breath and nodded. He lifted Hope’s hand and kissed her knuckles, seeing the shiny ring on her finger and that was enough to set him off once again.

‘I just don’t understand how this could have happened. One minute, we were — ’

‘Neal, stop it! You’re torturing yourself. Hope, of all people, would tell you that this is not your fault. It’s called an accident for a reason. Nobody wanted it to happen and nobody caused it to hap…’ she said as she caught her breath and let out a small whimper. ‘…except for that… that monster who left her there to die.’

Suddenly, she was losing it and Neal stood to make his way to the other side of the bed, winding his arms around her and pulling her in as he felt her quivering body against his.

‘I hate him… or her’ she blubbered as she cried against Neal’s shoulder.

‘Come on’ Neal whispered as he nodded towards the door. They'd agreed they would try to keep things upbeat around Hope; after all, she could be hearing all this and it would only make things worse for her to hear them upset.

Sara shook her head no. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m fine’ she said as she collected herself and pulled out of his arms.

The phone in her purse let out a quiet beep indicating a call and she looked up at Neal. ‘I’d better get this, maybe it’s Liam looking for us’ she said as she moved to take the call out in the hallway.

Neal was left alone with Hope and he took a seat once again as he studied her face. There were bandages where the doctors had cut into her skin in order to repair all those broken bones. No doubt she’d have scars there, scars on her beautiful face, scars where there should have been nothing but smiles and laughter.

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, his hand nested in her hair. ‘I’m sorry I let you down, sweet pea. That car was headed straight for me… it should have been me, honey, not you. You have everything to live for. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.’

The door opened and Sara reappeared, putting her phone away in her purse as she came back in. Neal looked up expectantly. ‘Liam?’

‘No, he must still be in the cafeteria’ she said. ‘It was Marion, reminding us of our appointment on Monday.’

Neal swallowed and looked away; he wasn't up for having his feelings scrutinized at the moment, least of all by someone as perceptive as Marion Birch.

‘I told her we’d be there…’ Sara said as Neal frowned.

‘You go. I’m not up for that’ he answered, his voice adamant.

‘Honey, it might do you some good to…’ Sara began as she glanced down at Hope. ‘… you know… talk things out.’

Neal gave her a decisive head shake and kept his eyes on Hope. ‘Why don't you go check on Liam, I’ll stay here with Hope.’

And, that, in ‘Neal Caffrey‘ speak, meant that the matter wasn't up for discussion.

WCWCWC

True to his word, Dr. White gave the go-ahead for Hope to be moved to a regular room up on the eighth floor just before dinnertime on Saturday.It was a private room facing south with large windows letting in the sun and plenty of room for visitors to drop by and keep the young woman company. Liam had set up some music for her and Cameron had brought over some of her personal belongings including the soap she liked, some hair implements and a beautiful bouquet of colourful gerberas to brighten up her room.

Peter and El had called and offered to bring dinner over to White Plains so that Neal and Sara could have a proper meal, something they hadn't had in a couple of days. Cameron was dead set on spending the evening with his fiancée and once Olivia had heard that her best friend could finally have visitors, she’d arrived with an armful of lilies and a couple of audio books.

Neal, Sara, Liam and Cameron sat in the eighth floor room chatting quietly while Olivia lovingly brushed Hope’s hair, braiding it to keep it from becoming tangled and matted.

‘You know, when we were growing up, I always envied Hope’s hair’ she said to Sara, sitting nearby. ‘I always wanted wavy hair instead of this’ she said, pointing to her straight blond head.

‘It’s funny how we never seem to have the hair we want’ Sara said with a sad smile. ‘When she was little, Hope used to curse her hair whenever I brushed it out.’

Liam fiddled with the music, coming up with an old Earth, Wind and Fire song he knew his sister liked and Neal smiled as he recognized the tune, imagining his daughter, so full of life, as she bobbed around the house to the familiar song.

Even Cameron, whose face had been tense and strained for the last few days ventured a small smile as his eyes nervously met Neal’s. He'd been quiet since he'd arrived and he checked his watch before speaking.

‘Mr. Caffrey’ he said, his voice quiet. ‘Do you think I could… could I have a word before you leave?’

‘Sure’ Neal said, unsure what the young man had on his mind.

Earth, Wind and Fire continued singing as Neal stood and stepped out into the hallway.

WCWCWC

‘So, are you two in the same math class?’ Elizabeth asked as she fussed around with the dinner preparations.

‘No’ Caitlin said. ‘But we both have ‘Old man Matheson’ for math.’

Cody giggled at the name the young teacher had inherited for his old fashioned way of dressing and his archaic views of the world.

‘What?’ Peter said in response. ‘Just how _old_ is he?’

Caitlin and Cody began to laugh simultaneously. ‘That’s just it’ Cody said. ‘He’s like thirty years old but he acts like he's seventy!’

Everyone giggled and it felt good to laugh after the stress and anguish of the last couple of days.

‘So, are you two having dinner here?’ El asked as she began to measure out some pasta.

Caitlin exchanged looks with Cody, not giving him a chance to answer.

‘Yeah, we are’ she responded as Cody smiled. Caitlin was about as subtle as a freight train in her effort to bring him and Liam back together.

‘Well, Neal, Sara and Liam should be home soon so you’d better clear off’ Peter said as he prepared to set the table.

Cody gave Caitlin a knowing look as he helped pack up the paraphernalia that littered the table.

‘We’d better do that’ he agreed.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

By the time Neal stepped out of Hope’s hospital room, Cameron was already halfway down the hall, heading past the nurses’ station towards the small waiting room nearby. Neal followed him; apparently, whatever Cam wanted to talk about wasn't something that could be discussed in hushed whispers in the hallway by Hope’s room.

He turned the corner and found the young man sitting with his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands and Neal took the seat across from him and waited.

Finally, Cameron looked up, his face pale and his eyes red from too much crying.

‘Mr. Caffrey, I just wanted to say… I’m really sorry for the things I said last night.’

Neal took a deep breath and focussed on the young man’s sad eyes, trying to keep it together.

‘I had no right to say those things. I _know_ how much you love Hope… you’ve loved her for a lot longer than I have and… well, you’ve _always_ been there for her.And I know you were there for her the other night too.’

Neal’s breathing grew shallow as he felt the now familiar lump in his throat and he swallowed to try to retain his composure.

Cam continued, not quite done with his apology. ’I was scared and angry and I took it out on you… and that was wrong.’

Neal cleared his throat to speak. ‘Cam, it’s okay. I understand. I should have… I should have kept this from happening somehow…’

‘That’s just it. I know you would have done anything to keep this from happening and Hope… well… she knows, too’ he said as the tears returned, unbidden.

Neal moved from the seat across from him to sit by his side and brought his arm around Cam’s shoulder as the younger man wept.

‘Cam, I know how much you love my little girl. Hope is really lucky to have a man like you in her life’ Neal managed to say before he suddenly lost the ability to speak.

Cam turned towards Neal as they hugged awkwardly. They sat, in silence, two broken men, comforting each other as they wept for the woman they both loved.

WCWCWC

The wonderful familiar aroma of homemade spaghetti sauce and the sound of soft giggling greeted Neal, Sara and Liam as they returned home after another emotional day. The sounds and smells were emanating from the kitchen and the threesome made their way back there with Raffie leading the way, his tail wagging happily at having his humans home.

‘Cody!’ Liam cried out at the sight of his ex sitting at the kitchen table alongside Caitlin and his uncle Peter. ‘What…?’

The young man stood to greet them, looking somewhat uncomfortable despite the fact he'd made a conscious decision to stay - with a little prodding from Caitlin, of course.

‘Hi! I hope you don't mind me dropping by. I heard about what happened…’ Cody began, letting his voice trail.

Neal and Sara exchanged knowing looks - seemed like they were witnessing the shortest breakup on record.

‘Caitlin invited me to stay for dinner, so…’ Cody said as he stood and walked towards Liam. ‘I hope you don't mind.’

Liam’s look of surprise morphed into a gentle smile; there hadn't been much to smile about the last few days but seeing Cody standing there in their kitchen was enough to elicit a large grin from the teen.

‘Of course not. It’s great to see you’ Liam said as everyone stared, slightly uncomfortable.

‘Something smells amazing’ Neal finally said, in an effort to break the tension.

‘We thought you guys might enjoy a nice home cooked meal after two days of eating out of vending machines’ Elizabeth said as she checked the pasta.

Sara smiled at her best friend; they could always count on the Burkes being there to stand by them, in good times and bad. ‘I’ll just wash up’ she said as she and Neal moved to the powder room at the front of the house.

‘Could I get you two to check on the garlic bread?’ El asked as the boys awkwardly moved together towards the oven, a nervous giggle emanating from both of them as they almost tripped over each other’s feet.

‘You okay?’ Neal asked as he and Sara stood in front of the mirror in the small washroom. He could see those dark clouds in her eyes as she struggled to remain upbeat when all she really wanted to do was to let herself fall apart.

Tears welled up once more and unable to speak, Sara simply shook her head and moved in to Neal’s arms.

‘Oh baby…’ he whispered as he pulled her in tight. Her body, always trim and fit, now seemed too thin and fragile and he cradled her in his arms, feeling her shaking against him.

‘I’m sorry’ she blubbered into his shirt. Neal could feel the tears pooling on his shoulder and he rubbed her back gently in an attempt to comfort her. ‘I still can’t believe this is really happening.’

‘I know…’ Neal said, feeling powerless. ‘Neither can I.’

Sara pulled away, arms still firmly around Neal’s shoulders. ‘I want to be strong but… sometimes, I can’t.’

‘It’s okay, baby’ he murmured as he wiped her eyes, bringing his lips to her forehead as he deposited a gentle kiss.

Sara disentangled her arms and turned towards the sink, running some cold water onto her hands and over her face as Neal watched. If only he’d reacted sooner, they would be basking in the afterglow of Hope and Cameron’s engagement and cleaning up from the party they’d planned for their daughter’s birthday instead of standing in their washroom, crying.

‘Dinner’s on the table!’ came Peter’s voice as Neal and Sara gave each other one last look of encouragement.

With that, they put their game face on and headed back to enjoy a good home cooked meal.

WCWCWC

‘I thought you said Liam and Cody had broken up’ Peter said as he rolled up the last of the pasta onto his fork and brought it to his mouth.

‘They did’ Neal answered.

‘Well, they looked pretty cosy just now’ Elizabeth commented.

At Neal and Sara’s insistence, the youngsters had just left the house on their way to a movie, with Caitlin acting as chaperone.

‘I’m glad Liam has someone to talk to’ Neal mused as he sipped his wine. ‘He keeps way too much inside.’

‘That was a good idea, encouraging them to go out. We can’t expect Liam and Caitlin to sit around moping all day’ El commented.

‘This was nice, guys. Thanks a lot’ Sara said as she pulled away from the table, hand on her stomach. ‘I guess I didn't realize how hungry I was.’

Elizabeth’s hand was instantly on hers as she spoke. ‘Well, I don't think I’ve seen you eat a proper meal since this whole thing started.’

Sara’s eyes filled with tears and she shrugged, embarrassed. ‘Sorry…I just feel so awful doing… normal things like eating a good meal and… sleeping in our own beds. It just seems… wrong when Hope is lying in a coma in the hospital.’

Neal let out a long slow breath and brought his hand to rest on the back of his wife’s chair, gently touching her shoulder in a show of support.

‘We all have to keep our strength up if we want to be there for her…’ Peter reminded them. ‘And you know Hope, she’d be the first one to tell you to eat.’

There was a moment of silence and Neal picked up the roster Peter had prepared and gave it another glance as Sara looked on.

‘So, what do you think?’ Peter asked. ‘Does the schedule work for the two of you?’

‘Yeah, thanks for doing this, Peter’ Neal said, putting the sheet of paper back on the table. ‘Like Sara says, it’s just… well, it’s weird to be going about our business as if nothing’s happened…’

‘Short of spending every waking hour in Hope’s hospital room just staring at her…’ El began as Sara started to cry again.

‘I’m sorry’ Elizabeth said, her voice shaky. ‘I just keep saying the wrong thing…’

‘It’s not you’ Sara whimpered as she wiped her eyes. ‘It’s…I think I just need a minute’ she said as she stood, leaving the table and heading towards the living room at the front of the house.

Neal made a move to stand and El put a hand on his arm to keep him from getting up. ‘It’s okay, I’ll go’ she said as she followed Sara out.

Neal let out a long, painful sigh and grabbed for his glass of wine, downing it all in one long gulp. It had been forty-eight hours since their lives had been turned upside down and they were already talking about a new normal… which didn't include Hope.

‘Sara’s right’ Neal said. ‘It doesn't seem right to carry on like nothing’s happened.’

‘Neal, you’ve got Liam to think of… and Caitlin and your mom. And then there’s the gallery and the school…’

‘Screw the gallery and the school’ Neal said as his anger flared. ‘Nothing means anything without Sara and the kids.’

‘You don't mean that, Neal. Just give yourself some time. Hope will get better; we have to believe that’ Peter attempted as he leaned in closer to Neal.

Neal’s hands went to his temples and he rubbed absentmindedly as Peter studied him.

‘Did the doctors have anything new to say today?’ Peter asked as he refilled their wine glasses. 

Neal shrugged. ‘Not really. Removing the breathing tube was a big step and she's doing really well breathing on her own. The doctors are giving us another update on Monday morning so we’ll know more then.’

He glanced up at Peter seeing the older man listening intently to his blubbering. What would he do without this wonderful man in his life? He hoped he'd never have to find out. Peter was always looking out for him and he had a sneaking suspicion that Cam’s unexpected apology had come on the heels of some well-meaning interference on Peter’s part.

‘Did you, by any chance, have a chat with Cameron today?’ he asked as he scrutinized Peter’s reaction.

‘Wh… what do you mean?’ Peter asked, trying to sound innocent.

‘What I told you last night… Did you talk to Cam about it?’ Neal pressed.

‘Why do you ask?’ Peter said, avoiding Neal’s scrutiny by looking away.

‘Out of the blue, he asked to talk to me this afternoon. Said he was sorry for how he'd behaved last night.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Peter said innocently as Neal eyed him up and down.

‘Well… thanks’ Neal said.

Despite his best friend’s attempt at denying his part in the impromptu apology, Neal knew better and yet, Peter shrugged as if he didn't know what Neal was talking about.

‘Have you heard anything from the police’ Neal asked as he sipped his wine.

‘No, nothing yet. But they haven't given up. They got a partial plate from the witnesses and they’re following it up but… well, it takes time.’

Neal nodded and let his hand linger on the stem of his wine glass as he grew quiet.

‘I heard you had another MRI today’ Peter said, changing the subject.

‘Yeah, it’s all good’ Neal said as his eyes came up to meet Peter’s. ‘It’s just the remnants of the concussion and… well, the stress.’

‘That’s good news… I suppose’ Peter responded with a smile. ‘Have you been able to get any sleep?’

‘Got some last night’ Neal answered without owning up to the fact that he'd been pleasantly buzzed by the time he'd finally been able to fall asleep.

‘You know Neal, we have to keep believing that she’ll come back to us’ Peter said as he placed his hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

Neal nodded unconvincingly and returned to rubbing his temple.

WCWCWC

‘I’m sorry, Sara’ El said as she took the spot next to Sara on the living room couch. Except for the soft murmur of Neal and Peter’s voices coming from the kitchen, the house was perfectly quiet. Even Raffie had curled up under the kitchen table and hadn't moved throughout the whole meal.

‘It’s not you, El’ Sara said as she took her best friend’s hand in hers. ‘You’ve been amazing, making sure everything is running smoothly and feeding everyone. I don't know what we’d do without the two of you.’

Elizabeth sat quietly and listened.

‘It’s just… weird. Am I really expected to go back to work in a week or so and act like my daughter isn't lying in a coma?’

The tears returned as she spoke. ‘Oh, El. What if she _never_ wakes up. What if her brain…’

‘Stop it. Don't even say it’ El said, cutting her off. ‘It’s only been a couple of days. You heard what the doctors said, it’s going to take some time for the swelling to come down.’

Sara nodded as the sobbing intensified. ‘She’s my… my little girl and I can’t stand seeing her like that, so helpless…’

El opened her arms and Sara let herself melt into her best friend’s embrace, sobbing loudly as Elizabeth made shushing sounds, trying to soothe the pain. But there was no way to soothe a broken heart.

The sobbing finally subsided and the women just held each other in silence, seeking comfort in each other’s presence.

‘And to top it off, I’m worried about Neal’ Sara blurted out as she finally sat up and looked into El’s questioning eyes.

‘He’s carrying all this guilt and I can tell it’s eating him up. He finally fell asleep on the couch last night at God knows what time.’

‘It’s still new, honey. Give him time. We _all_ need to adjust.’

‘I tried to convince him to come see Marion with me on Monday but he won’t hear of it.’

‘He’ll come around in time, you’ll see’ El said, her voice quiet.

‘It just feels like… like things are never going to be right again.’

Despite her words of encouragement, Elizabeth Burke feared that Sara might be right.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

On Thursday morning at 8:00, Neal stood outside Hope’s hospital room on the eighth floor of Bronx Lebanon Hospital, watching as the nurses finished prepping his daughter for the day ahead. He paced, peeking in from time to time as her catheters were checked, her face was washed, bandages changed and her IV bag was replaced by a fresh one. Sadly, after twelve consecutive days, the sight of his motionless daughter being manhandled without her consent was becoming commonplace.

He had the first shift of the day and it suited him to be the first to greet her in the morning, to talk to her, fill her in on the previous day’s goings on and to talk to her about the day ahead. During their last meeting on the previous Monday, the doctors had updated her status from comatose to vegetative state - a term which, at first, had struck terror in his heart. Turned out, despite the alarming and overly descriptive term, it was an upgrade of sorts from the comatose state she’d been in for the previous few days. The doctors had explained that she was now showing signs of wake/sleep cycles and that she was slowly but surely becoming more conscious of her surroundings. From time to time, Hope had begun to open her eyes although she wasn't aware of the world around her. She’d even smiled one morning when he'd come into the room, merely a reflex the nurses had explained as Neal’s heart had sunk with disappointment. She was being fed through a tube and from time to time, she made guttural sounds - something that was disconcerting considering the noises were random and meaningless. Still, the doctors had insisted these were all encouraging signs and coupled with the fact that the swelling in her brain had slowly begun to decrease, the doctors were optimistic that Hope would slowly return although all bets were off as to the state in which she would be when she finally did come back to them.

Neal and Sara had reluctantly returned to work part time - he at the school and she at Sterling Bosch although the length of their workdays was determined by Hope’s needs, their meetings with the doctors and all their other responsibilities around Liam and Caitlin’s schedules. Peter and Elizabeth had been amazing throughout; El had put her life on hold to spend a few hours every afternoon with her goddaughter while Peter had kept things going at the gallery, considering Cam was spending the bulk of his time by his fiancée’s side. 

Days weren't so bad for Neal as it related to coping with the unusual circumstances but nights were still a challenge and he'd begun to rely on a couple of stiff shots of scotch - and sometimes more - in order to silence his demons when the sun finally went down and the rest of the world settled in for a restful night’s slumber. He knew that as far as coping mechanisms went, this was probably not the best choice but it was just that, a _coping_ mechanism, and at least for the time being, it allowed him to get four to five hours of uninterrupted sleep which was just enough to allow him to face another day.

He’d spent the last couple of nights in his studio painting, something which Sara had seen as a _good_ sign. What she didn't know was that he kept a bottle of booze down there and that it fuelled his rage as he worked on his latest piece - a dark and dreary rendition of the accident seen from his warped and guilt laden point of view. Some nights, he didn't even make it to bed, falling asleep on the couch in the family room as the alcohol did its work while other nights, he climbed the stairs up to their room and fell into bed next to his wife, blissfully asleep with the help of the little sleeping pills she’d gotten into the habit of taking before bedtime.

They were barely coping, hanging on by the skin of their teeth but they owed Hope that much - to be there for her every day as she struggled every step of the way.

‘You can go in now’ said Holly, one of the regular morning nurses. ‘She was smiling a minute ago. She must know her dad is here.’

Neal smiled back at her, a forced and sad smile. The hospital staff, from the nurses to the doctors to the orderlies were all wonderful but he would have given his eye teeth to never have met them. He took a cleansing breath and walked in, putting on a brave face for his little girl. He and Sara had been clear that everyone was to talk directly to Hope and not _about_ her amongst themselves. Dr. White was a firm believer that comatose patients were aware of their surroundings and Neal and Sara were dead set on keeping the lines of communication open and they'd forbidden anyone from being negative when they were in Hope’s presence.

‘Good morning, sweet pea’ Neal said, his voice chipper, as he made his way to her side and kissed her forehead. ‘The nurses said you were in a good mood this morning. You look really pretty. I like the way Caitlin did your hair.’

Hope lay motionless as always. Her face had begun to heal, the bruising finally fading and the stitches not quite as bright and red as they’d first been.

He brought one of the chairs over to sit by her side and placed his spiked coffee on the small table by her bed. The last two mornings, he’d put in a little bit of whisky into his coffee mug before leaving the house. It helped with the hangovers he'd been having every morning and it was only a small amount, he reasoned, as he took a sip and pulled out a get well card from his pocket.

‘You got a card from Pam and your friends at CMU’ Neal began. ‘And they sent these beautiful flowers, irises, daisies and some roses… really nice.’

He glanced at Hope, laying immobile as she always did. He was getting good at the long monologues, which at first had seemed silly and pointless but were now his one and only lifeline to his beautiful daughter.

_‘Dear Hope’_ he said as he read from the note. _‘We are all thinking of you and hoping you'll be back with us soon. Exams were horrible and you were right, Miss Denning slipped in a question on the final about the Byzantine period which no one but you had seen coming. Things just aren't the same without you and your outrageous sense of humour and we can't wait to have you back. Cathy got a job back home for the summer working at one of the local galleries and Tim is going to New York to look for work. I’m still looking but I know my mom is hoping I’ll come home to Chicago for the summer although I’m thinking I might just stay here and get a job. We heard you got engaged. You bugger! I knew he was going to ask you. Well, I didn't really know but from the way he was calling and texting a dozen times a day, I guess the writing was on the wall.’_

Neal paused to look at Hope, her face still expressionless as he read. _‘Anyway, hurry and get better. Our dorm room is so empty without you. Love, Pam.’_

‘That was nice, huh, honey?’ Neal added after a moment. ‘Pam’s a great kid. I really like her.’

Neal stood and ran his hand over Hope’s hair. He glanced down at her arm, noticing a new piece of jewelry and he brought his hand to gently touch it. ‘Is that the bracelet Lydia gave you?’ he asked unnecessarily. ‘It’s pretty. I guess she knew how much you love turquoise, huh?’

‘Mom’s coming over in a little while and Cam too. The nurses are going to show us how to do your physio so we can do it for you instead of waiting for them to find time to do it… So if you think you’re going to get to just lay there… well, you've got another think coming.’

Neal grabbed for his coffee and took another fortifying sip. ‘And your aunt Elizabeth will be over at lunch to spend some time with you.’

His eyes wandered to an audio book on the nearby table. ‘Is this one of the ones Olivia brought over?’ he asked, already knowing the answer to his question. ‘It’s good, huh? Mom was reading it before… well, before the accident. She said it was a good read.’

Neal sat down again and took a moment to collect himself. He was getting much better at not letting his emotions seep through in his voice, trying to keep his speech steady and not let her hear how difficult it was to see her like that, broken and fragile.

‘Why don't we listen to the next chapter’ he suggested as he set the tape in motion. He reached for her hand, squeezing gently and grabbed for his coffee with the other hand as he settled in to listen.

WCWCWC

‘How’s your daughter doing?’ Marion asked as she handed Sara a glass of water.

‘She’s stable’ Sara said sadly. ‘They’ve upgraded her status from ‘comatose’ to ‘vegetative state’ which sounded horrible at first but… apparently it’s a step up on the ‘consciousness’ scale. The doctor says she has sleep/wake cycles now and sometimes she even opens her eyes which… well, it’s weird. She doesn't see us but we can see her beautiful blue eyes…’

Marion reached out and put a hand on top of Sara’s. ‘I’m so sorry you have to go through all this, especially after the ordeal you recently went through.’

Sara shrugged. It seemed like years ago she’d been held captive and sexually assaulted even though it was merely a few months before. So much had happened in that time and she and Neal had been well on their way to rebuilding their intimacy before tragedy had struck. Now, it was a good night if Neal even made it to bed and Sara had noticed he'd been drinking more at bedtime.

‘So, you still can’t get Neal to come to our appointments, huh?’ the therapist asked.

Sara shook her head. ‘He’s still in total denial. I can tell he’s ravaged with guilt…’

‘He’s probably having trouble letting go of the images from that night. It’s very traumatic to witness such an event’ Marion explained patiently. ‘Hopefully, he’ll come to a point where he’ll decide to reach out and ask for help.’

Sara looked sadly at the therapist. She recalled how she’d resisted coming to therapy in the first place and how Neal had had to drag her kicking and screaming in the beginning. Maybe she needed to do the same for him now that the roles were reversed.

‘He’s drinking… at night’ Sara admitted as much to herself as to Marion. She’d been wanting to ignore the signs but they were becoming increasingly obvious.

‘Is he able to function during the day?’ Marion asked, concern evident in her voice.

‘That’s what’s strange. He’s… during the day, he goes to visit Hope, he puts in a couple of hours at work, he's even started painting again but… I can’t get him to come to bed at night’ Sara said, feeling as though she was betraying Neal’s sacred trust. ‘I found a bottle of scotch in his night table. I think he drinks when he can’t sleep.’

‘Definitely _not_ the best coping strategy’ Marion agreed.

‘Some nights, he doesn't even make it to bed and I find him asleep on the couch with the bottle nearby’ she said as she looked at her therapist. ‘I don't want to nag him about it but I’m worried.’

‘For now, my suggestion is to keep an eye on him, make sure he's not drinking and driving, that sort of thing. If you start to see a change in his behaviour during the day, you might want to confront him about it’ Marion said. ‘And keep trying to get him to come and see me.’

Sara nodded. She was having trouble coping herself and to see Neal struggling made everything doubly hard.

‘So, when is your appointment with the prosecutor’s office?’ the woman asked, changing the subject.

‘Next week. I’m nervous but I… I know this is an important step in letting go of all this. Luckily, Neal will be there with me… and Mindy’ Sara said.

The man who had assaulted her had been arrested by Homeland Security for his crimes and he'd been in prison for the past six months but it had been an important part of Sara’s journey to press charges and deal with this last piece of business before letting go of the unfortunate incident once and for all. Luckily, Cody’s mom, Mindy Miller, herself a lawyer, had contacts in the prosecutor’s office and had been supporting Sara through the last, tedious part of her journey.

‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing, Sara. It’s not going to be easy to go all the way and stand up to your attacker but it’ll help you leave all this behind for good.’

‘It’s just… the timing’s not great with Hope and…’ Sara began as she locked eyes with her therapist. ‘But I want to see this through to the end and… I will.’

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

‘Bathroom’s clean!’ Caitlin exclaimed as she stepped into the main room of the Raphael Gallery.

‘What about upstairs?’ Peter asked, pulling out the tally sheet he'd been keeping to record her volunteer hours.

‘Dusted and swept!’ she announced.

Peter jotted down the two hours of work and added up the tally as Caitlin peeked over his shoulder. ‘That’s two more hours at $10 an hour… you’re up to $240. Six more hours and you will have finally paid for that lamp you broke.’

‘Is there anything else I can do to help?’ Caitlin asked as she removed the plastic gloves she’d been wearing and threw them next to the cleaning supplies in the plastic pail. 

Peter eyed her with suspicion. Normally Caitlin would be complaining, moaning and groaning about having to put in time at the gallery - especially the _nasty_ jobs like scrubbing the toilet.

‘I’m just trying to… stay out of trouble’ she said quietly as she pushed the bangs out of her face. ‘Sara and Mr. C. have enough on their minds without me giving them a hard time.’

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise, not that he was complaining about the change in attitude. Ever since Caitlin Somersby had come into their lives, Neal had been ripping his hair out as he tried desperately to keep her on the straight and narrow. Peter certainly couldn't complain if she was turning over a new leaf.

‘Well, that’s very mature of you’ he commented. ‘You know, I haven't had time to catch up on the filing… If you wanted to file the registration forms for the art classes, we could probably wipe the slate clean today.’

‘Really!’ she said, excited. ‘That would be great.’

Peter moved to his desk and took out a huge pile of forms as Caitlin’s smile faded.

‘Be careful what you wish for’ he said as he handed over the pile of papers.

WCWCWC

Hope listened as the nurses shooed away her aunt Elizabeth so they could check her catheters and her goddam feeding tube. Frankly, their timing was atrocious. Her aunt had just been telling her about the beautiful wedding she’d worked on the night before. The bride had been glorious in a chiffon dress reminiscent of the 1950’s and the couple had hired a live band to play classics from that period. Hope hadn't had much time to reflect on the type of wedding she wanted but listening to El describe the scene, she could well imagine herself stepping into the bride’s shoes, walking into Cam’s open arms, sharing a dance with her proud dad, preparing to leave on a magical honeymoon.

She wasn't certain when but she’d started to become aware of certain conversations around her. She had a vague recollection of her mom applying lotion to her face and hands and of her dad reading from a magazine - although she couldn't recall the topic, just the soothing sound of her dad’s voice. Cam was there too, his hands on her hair, touching her face, kissing her forehead. The dreams were frequent and vividly intense and most of the time, she couldn't tell whether she was awake or dreaming although she could feel the frequent touches as people sat by her bedside, holding her hand.

‘She’s really pretty’ she heard one of the voices say. ‘You know that cute guy who’s here every night? He’s her fiancé.’

‘It’s too bad she’s never going to get to walk down the aisle’ the other voice said.

‘The doctors say she’s got a good chance of coming out of it but who knows, she could be paralyzed or worse yet, have brain damage. And who knows how long he’ll stick around waiting for her.’

‘Can you imagine… I heard she was hit by a car —’‘Miss Holmes!’ Hope heard the familiar voice of one of her favourite nurse call out. ‘And Miss Thompson! Out here in the hallway, please.’

Hit by a car? Hope tried to imagine the scene, unable to conjure up any images. She concentrated very hard to try to hear what was being said - something about the two student nurses being written up for unprofessional conduct. Regardless, they hadn’t said anything she hadn't already been wondering. Her eyes opened and she stared up at the shadows dancing on the ceiling for a moment before they closed again and she slipped into an uneasy sleep.

WCWCWC

Neal sat by the bed, watching his mom sleeping. He hadn't been to visit her nearly as much as he would have liked since Hope’s accident and he felt bad about it - although she’d been more than understanding about the circumstances. He looked down at his hands and noticed they were shaking slightly. He really should cut down on the booze, he reflected as he felt for the flask in his jacket pocket. Lately, he'd been carrying it around with him as a safety net - just to get him over the hump whenever he started to get anxious. He stood and walked to the edge of the room, taking a quick swig before returning it to the safety of his jacket.

‘Neal!’ he heard as he startled. ‘Why didn't you wake me?’

Linda blinked as she took in the sight of her son, returning to her side.

‘You just looked so peaceful’ he said as he moved in to kiss her forehead. ‘I figured you needed the rest.’

He pulled his chair closer to her bed, not noticing the frown on her face as she struggled to sit up.

‘Saturday, right?’ she asked as she got her bearings.

‘Yup’ Neal responded. Lately, she’d become more confused about time and places, especially when she’d just woken from a nap.

‘Anything new with Hope?’ she asked, her mind finally focussing on the here and now.

Neal shrugged. ‘Not a whole lot. She’s making more sounds but… no words really and sometimes, she tracks movements with her eyes for a few seconds… The doctors say it’s all good but she’s still in what they call a vegetative state.’

Linda watched the sadness in her son’s eyes as he gave her the lowdown. It had been a horrible four weeks and there was still no sign of what they could expect when Hope finally came to and began interacting with her environment - if indeed she ever did.

‘And what about you? How are _you_ coping?’ she asked, although it was increasingly obvious what the answer was from his demeanour.

‘I’m good’ he lied. ‘We’ve got it down to a fine art. We have someone with her most of the time now to try to keep her stimulated. The doctors think it’s a good idea.’

‘What about work?’ she asked.

‘I’m putting in a few hours at the school every day and we've had to hire a couple more part-timers for the gallery. I’m trying to give Cam as much time off as he needs…’

Linda reached out to touch Neal’s hand. ‘You’re a good man, Neal Caffrey’ she said with a smile as she patted it gently.

They sat in silence for a few moments while she debated what to do. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and that, coupled with the concerns Sara had shared with her the previous week, was enough for her to go out on a limb and broach the subject.

‘When did you start drinking during the day?’ she asked softly.

Neal let out a nervous giggle. ‘I’m not…’ he said as he avoided her gaze.

He pulled his hand away instinctively. Frankly, he didn't need any more berating. Sara was already on his case about his drinking before bedtime - the last thing he needed was for his mom to join in.

‘It’s all under control’ he lied as she scrutinized him.

‘You seem to be forgetting who you’re talking to’ she said softly.

It had taken Linda Bennett most of her adult life to get the monkey off her back and she’d paid dearly by being estranged from her one and only son for all those years. The last thing she wanted was for him to have to go through the same horrible ordeal she’d suffered.

‘Mom, you're an alcoholic’ he said harshly as he stood to distance himself from her. ‘I just have a couple of drinks to help me sleep at night so I can cope with the fact that my daughter is lying unconscious in the hospital. It’s hardly the same thing.’

She studied his face, his features hardening as he resisted her attempts at breaking through to him. It was obvious he wasn’t ready to hear what she had to say and she could certainly understand that; she’d resisted people trying to help her for years.

She swallowed hard and tried to get things back on an even keel; she wouldn't be able to help him at all if she ended up alienating him for good.

‘You’re right’ she said as she attempted to get him to sit down again. ‘I really _don't_ know what you're going through.’

She could tell by the look in his eyes that the damage was done; her comments had irked him and he wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

‘Look, I should go’ he said as he pulled on his jacket. ‘We’ve got company coming for dinner. I’ll be back to visit… in a few days.’

Linda stared back, angry at herself for mishandling the situation.

‘Okay, honey. Thanks for coming’ she managed to say as Neal left without looking back.

He trudged out to the car, the early May sunshine shining brightly and he settled in, grabbing for the flask and taking another swig.

WCWCWC

‘Neal?’ Sara called out as she heard the front door open.

He appeared, looking a little worse for wear and threw his jacket on a kitchen chair.

‘Thank God you’re home!’ Sara continued as she fussed with something on the stovetop. ‘I can’t seem to get the Alfredo sauce right.’

He leaned in to take a look, feeling her warm, solid body against his. ‘It just needs a little more cream’ he muttered as he glanced at the saucepan Sara was stirring.

She could instantly sense the tension in his muscles and she turned to face him.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked as he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her in, unwilling to let her scrutinize his face too closely.

She felt steady and strong, an anchor at a time when he felt himself drifting away and he held on tight, prolonging the embrace.

‘Nothing. I just… I missed you’ he said as he inhaled the wonderfully familiar scent of her shampoo.

‘You missed me?’ she said with a soft laugh. ‘You’ve only been gone two hours…’

Neal grinned as he spoke in her ear. ‘I mean _this_ … holding you.’

Sara pulled away to look into his eyes. They hadn't been intimate since the accident. It had seemed wrong somehow and yet she missed his arms around her, his body pressed against hers, especially the last few weeks as she’d felt him slowly slipping away. Maybe this was one way they could reconnect and she could get past that wall he'd been trying so desperately to put up between them.

She pulled him in, kissing him deeply as she felt him tighten his hold on her, desperation obvious in his touch. They pulled apart and Neal returned his face to the crook of her neck. ’I love you’ she heard him whisper into her ear, his voice unsteady.

‘And I love you… so much’ she said. ‘And I’ve missed you.’

This was the old Neal, the caring, loving husband she’d been feeling estranged from the last little while and her eyes filled with tears at the sight of him so fragile and so vulnerable.

‘Come on’ she said, reaching over to turn off the stove and tugging at him to follow her upstairs.

‘But… what time are El and Peter coming?’

‘Not for another hour and a half and the kids are out’ she said as she pulled him along.

Neal felt a certain apprehension he'd never felt before at the thought of making love to his wife, a sense of disquiet and anxiety. He instantly related his unease to the situation with Hope although there was something else, some sense of foreboding he couldn't quite put his finger on. And yet, he wanted nothing more than to let himself melt in his wife’s touch and forget all his misgivings - even if it was for just a short while. 

They made their way upstairs and slipped in between the sheets, Sara looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her, her face soft and warm, her touch gentle and reassuring and he just held on, letting her carry him away from all his worries and guilt laden thoughts.

‘I’m sorry…’ he murmured out of the blue as she kissed him, her soft, warm lips moving from his forehead to his eyelids, down to his cheeks and finally capturing his mouth.

‘Shhh’ she whispered. ‘Nothing to be sorry about.’

He felt her warm, gentle hands move over his body, running down his chest, across his back, leaving in its wake a trail of forgiveness he wasn’t quite prepared to accept nor did he feel he deserved. The look of pure adulation in her eyes made him uncomfortable somehow and he forced himself to focus on her face, her lips, her warm smile, all the while feeling unworthy of the look of intensity and sheer love in her gaze.

Her soft lips came to rest on his neck and moved down to his chest, her hands lingering down his body. She reached down to touch him, noticing an uncharacteristic lack of response and she began to coax him, whispering in his ear as she went and as much as Neal wanted her, his body remained uncooperative and after a few moments, he pulled her hand away.

‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered lovingly in his ear.

‘I don't know’ he murmured, embarrassed by his lack of arousal despite her loving touch. ‘I just can’t… I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay honey. We don't have to do this’ she said as she settled back down on the pillow next to him and brought her arms around his shoulder, pulling him in against her chest.

There’d been very few instances over their twenty year marriage where Neal hadn't been able to rise to the occasion; a few times in the weeks after he'd been shot and once, years ago, when he'd had way too much to drink. 

‘I’m sorry…’ he repeated as he brought his face to rest the crook of her neck, his lack of arousal only a small part of what he was apologizing for.

‘Baby, it’s okay. Just hold me… and let me hold you’ Sara murmured, feeling pain and anguish oozing from every pore of his body.

His guard was down, his vulnerabilities exposed and Neal began to weep as Sara held him close. He felt responsible for everything that had happened - for Hope lying in that hospital bed, for the sadness he saw in his wife’s eyes every time he looked at her, for the anger and pain Cameron was feeling as his life was turned upside down.

It was all down to him and he couldn't bear it; the knowledge that he was responsible for it all was ripping him apart. 

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

‘Hey!’ Sara moaned as she opened her eyes to find Neal looming over her. ‘You won’t forget about this afternoon, will you?’

‘Not a chance, two o’clock right?’ Neal answered with a forced smile.

‘So, you'll meet me there?’ Sara asked as her eyes struggled to focus on her husband’s tired face.

‘Promise’ he whispered as he kissed her forehead. ‘Now, get up. It’s six thirty.’

The weekday morning routine had pretty well been the same since the accident. Neal got up at 5:45, showered and dressed while Sara snoozed and he woke her up just before heading out for his daily visit to Bronx Lebanon Hospital. It was surprising he could function with so little sleep, especially on the nights when he overdid it with the scotch, which was pretty well most nights these days. Yet, every morning, he managed to get himself out of bed - or off the couch - and, despite the inevitable hangover, he willed himself to get going and face the day. After all, as he reminded himself, no matter how bad _he_ felt, it was nothing compared to what Hope was going through.

He made his way to the quiet kitchen and refilled the flask he now kept on him at all times, pouring a good dollop of the fine whisky into his coffee cup before heading out the door - hair of the dog and all that.

Raffie looked up at him questioningly, whimpering softly and Neal gave him a look of reprimand, wagging his finger at him.

‘You don't get to judge me’ he murmured as Raffie lay down and dropped his head in shame.

Neal headed out for the long commute to the Bronx and to face the day ahead.

WCWCWC

‘Hi!’ Peter called out as Neal stepped into the gallery. He checked his watch, noting it was just shy of noon, not Neal’s usual time to visit the Raphael. ‘What are _you_ doing here at this hour?’

‘Well, that’s a fine welcome. The last time I checked, I still owned the place’ Neal said as he pointed to his name stencilled on the front window. ‘And here I was, bringing you a nice cup of coffee.’

‘Sorry, I’m just not used to seeing you here at this hour, that’s all.’ Peter said, rising and reaching for one of the cups.

‘Thought I’d switch it up and come by and check on the new acquisitions. Are they here yet?’

‘Yup. Cam’s in the back getting them ready’ Peter replied as he nodded towards the backroom.

‘How’s he doing this morning?’

Peter shrugged. ‘Not sure how long he can keep up this punishing pace before he crashes’ he said.

He’d noticed Cameron had grown quieter and more introspective as the weeks passed. His initial rage had morphed into excruciating heartache which seemed to haunt him day and night. His future, which had looked bright and promising just a few short weeks before, was now in limbo and he lived from day to day, waiting to find out what life had in store for him and Hope. One thing was certain, whatever condition Hope was in, he would never give up on her and he'd already begun to think ahead to how he might provide long term care for her if, heaven forbid, that’s what the situation warranted. For now, he was burning the candle at both ends, adamant about putting in his time at the gallery and spending countless hours by her side at the hospital.

‘So, how’s Hope today?’ 

Neal’s features darkened. ‘The doctors are giving us another update later this week. She’s still opening her eyes from time to time and she's moaning a lot… I’m not sure if she's dreaming or what…’

Peter smiled sadly; progress had been slow but steady. The most difficult part was the waiting… _waiting_ for Hope to regain consciousness, _waiting_ to see what state she’d be in when she finally did, _waiting_ to find out what life had in store for her.

He took a sip of his brew and grimaced. ‘What the hell? What is this?’ he said as he stared down at the cup.

Neal realized Peter must have picked up his cup by mistake and grabbed for it, exchanging it for the other cup that lay on the desk.

‘I guess that one’s mine’ he said, slightly flustered at being found out.

‘Since when do you spike your coffee in the morning?’ Peter asked as he eyed Neal suspiciously.

‘Just a little… hair of the dog. I kind of overdid it last night’ Neal admitted, trying to make light of it. 

He noticed Peter staring back at him, a look of skepticism on his face.

‘It’s no big deal’ he added as he shrugged nonchalantly.

‘Neal…’ Peter began as the younger man turned away, choosing to ignore him.

Neal’s eyes narrowed and he gave his best friend a dismissive look, a _‘mind your own business’_ stare before barking back.

‘Look, I don't want to hear it Peter. I’m coping the best way I can’ he said as he headed back to check on the gallery’s latest art collection.

WCWCWC

Peter listened in as Neal and Cam chatted in the back room, exchanging information about the new pieces of art, discussing where and how they would be displayed and how they would go about promoting the exhibit. They refrained from discussing Hope’s condition - they did enough of that on a daily basis, usually sharing information when Neal came in first thing in the morning.

The weekday schedule they'd settled on seemed to be working for all involved and gave them all a chance to do something other than just sit around and stare at Hope all day, day in and day out. It was one thing to have a loved one in hospital for a few days but Hope’s hospital stay was going on five weeks and for everyone’s sanity, it had become essential that they all pace themselves in order to be there for her in the long run.

From Monday to Friday, without fail, Neal would arrive at the hospital shortly before 8:00. He would begin his visit by getting the lowdown from the nurses on the kind of night his daughter had had, how she’d slept, if there were any notable changes in her status or behaviour. Then, he'd sit and talk to her, often reading from the newspaper or sharing a magazine article he thought she might be interested in before spending about thirty minutes putting her through some of the exercises they'd been taught in order to keep her muscles from tensing up and atrophying. Every day, before leaving the hospital, Neal would pull out his tablet and e-mail the extended family with an update on Hope’s condition before departing to drive out to the JESOA to do a few hours of work. 

By lunchtime, Elizabeth would arrive to spend time with her goddaughter, often regaling her with tales of the events she was coordinating or giving her the scoop on the latest celebrity gossip before heading back to Brooklyn to get dinner on the table for Peter. Caitlin, Liam or Olivia Mason were next, showing up mid-afternoon when classes let out and spending some quality time with Hope, listening to music and filling her in on what was going on in their busy lives.Sara arrived promptly at 5:00, cutting her day short at Sterling Bosch in order to spend a couple of hours with her daughter. She would curl up next to Hope on the bed, often doing her hair or her nails and telling her stories from when she was a little girl, eagerly watching for any signs that her daughter could understand what she was saying.

Evenings belonged to Cam who would arrive after working all day at the Raphael, sitting with Hope until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, often falling asleep by her side where he sometimes remained until Neal returned the next morning. It was a gruelling pace but together they managed to pull it off, supporting each other and keeping each other informed of any new developments.

Peter heard the two men laugh softly at something one of them said and he thought back to the discovery he'd just made. Sara had shared her concern about Neal’s drinking with Elizabeth but he'd had no idea Neal was drinking during the day and he wondered if Sara was even aware of it. Neal had always been a social drinker - certainly a wine connoisseur - but he'd never been known to use alcohol as a coping mechanism, preferring to enjoy one or two glasses of good wine to complement a fine meal. But for weeks now, he’d been drinking before bedtime in order to help him fall asleep and according to Sara, he didn't even make it up to bed most nights, conking out on the couch after over imbibing his favourite new poison, good malt whisky. She’d told El how she’d tried reasoning with him, nagging him, cajoling him, getting angry at him but the more she raised the subject, the more Neal pulled away and she’d backed off, worried she might alienate him for good if she didn't cut him some slack.

Peter stared down at his coffee cup, wondering if he should speak up and share his recent discovery with his best friend’s wife. Neal was a grown man and for the time being, maybe the best he could do was to keep an eye on him and gently nudge him into getting the help he obviously needed so he could recover from the traumatic event he'd witnessed.

The voices from the back room grew louder and Neal reappeared, still sipping on the insidious drink in his hand.

‘Well, everything looks like it’s under control’ he declared as he threw his empty cup away and headed for the door.

‘Are you headed over to the school?’ Peter asked, suddenly concerned about his best friend.

‘No, Sara’s meeting with the prosecutor’s office today to formally press charges and prepare her case. I’m meeting her over there.’

‘Well, be careful’ Peter said, unable to help himself.

Neal gave him a shrug and a look of exasperation. ‘Always, Peter!’ he said with false bravado before heading out to the car.

He got in behind the wheel, feeling the now familiar shakes as he thought ahead to the next few hours. Sara needed him strong and focussed for this. She’d hesitated for a long time about pressing charges. It was a final, albeit difficult, step in her recovery and he needed to be there by her side as she finally put the sordid ordeal behind her for good.

He grabbed for the flask in his coat jacket and took a long slow pull, hoping to steady his nerves.

WCWCWC

‘Are you all right?’ Mindy Miller asked as the two women sat side by side in the large lobby.

Sara let out a slow breath and glanced towards the main entrance one more time. ‘I’m fine. I’m just anxious for Neal to get here, that’s all.’

Mindy gave her friend an encouraging smile. Criminal law was not her specialty but she did know how to navigate the legal system and when Sara had mentioned she wanted to press charges against her assailant, Cody’s mom had offered to help her through the process, something Sara was eternally grateful for.

‘Don’t worry’ she reminded her friend and client. ‘This is just a preliminary meeting, going over the charges, discussing your statement. Everybody in that room is on your side.’

Sara nodded nervously. ‘I know… it’s just… it dredges every thing up again.’

Mindy reached for Sara’s hand and squeezed. ‘It’s okay. You’re not alone Sara.’

WCWCWC

Traffic was a bitch as it always was in Manhattan on a weekday and Neal cursed as he checked the time. He thought he’d given himself plenty of time to get there but New York traffic was unpredictable and an unexpected road closure had thrown him off schedule. He looked down at his hands, steady on the steering wheel and sucked on the mint he'd popped in his mouth to help cover the smell of booze. The last thing he wanted was for Sara to start worrying about him having the odd fortifying drink during the day as he coped with the crazy maze that was his life at the moment. She’d been through so much and more than anything, he wanted their lives to go back to the way they were before her brutal attack. 

He glanced ahead at the traffic lights changing and, picking up speed, he made a last second decision to power through just as the light turned red. He still had ten minutes before the meeting, just enough time to make a run for it when he finally got the car parked. The persistent sound of a police siren was heard coming up behind him and Neal could see a cruiser appear in his rear view mirror. Without hesitation, he pulled over to give the emergency vehicle free passage, surprised to find it slowing down behind him and coming to a full stop.

‘Damn it!’ he muttered under his breath as he spied an officer stepping out of the police car and walking over to stand expectantly by his car door.

Neal summoned his best conman smile and flashed his pearly whites at the young officer, hoping to charm his way out of the situation.

‘License and registration, please’ the officer said, unimpressed, as he glanced into Neal’s car suspiciously.

Neal moved to reach for the glove compartment, feeling a sense of doom as the flask jostled in his jacket pocket.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

A small smile graced Hope Ellis-Caffrey’s lips as her kid brother stared back with interest. It was nice to see her smile although the doctors had warned them not to read too much into the facial expressions and random sounds Hope had been making over the past couple of weeks.

‘I _thought_ you'd like that one’ Liam said as he turned the volume up a little. ‘I still don't get the whole ‘Drake’ thing but, hey…’

One of the nurses popped her head in and gave him a hand signal, urging him to bring it down a notch and Liam obliged, leaning in to whisper into Hope’s ear.

‘I can’t wait to break you out of here. Too many rules’ he said as he grabbed an apple from his back pack and began to devour it. 

He settled in on the chair beside her bed and put his feet up on the edge, nudging her softly with his foot.

‘Guess what. Cody asked me out again’ he said softly. ‘We’re taking things slow but I’m really glad he's around… with everything that’s going on.’

He stopped for a moment, unsure how much he should share with his sister; after all, they’d agreed to keep things upbeat around her. But she was one of the few people he could confide in and she’d always been a good listener… especially these days.

‘Mom and Dad are arguing a lot about his drinking’ he finally blurted out. ‘I’m trying to stay out of it but I’m worried about it too. I caught him putting something in his coffee the other morning and I don't know if I should tell Mom. They mostly argue about it at night. Dad stays up late and paints or watches TV and when Mom goes to bed, he starts drinking until he falls asleep… I didn't even know he _liked_ scotch…’

He stopped talking, watching Hope’s serene face. ‘I know what you’re thinking… but it’s not your fault’ he said as if he'd heard her ask the question. ‘Dad feels guilty about the accident. He thinks he should have kept it from happening… that’s what Grandma says, anyway.’

Liam shrugged off the nostalgia as another song came on and he stood, making his way to the IPod dock to turn up the volume once more. ‘This is a good one!’ he said.

WCWCWC

Sara stared down at her phone; still no word from Neal and it was already a few minutes after two. Any minute now, they were going to have to go in to the meeting and he _still_ hadn't shown up.

As was often the case when Neal was running late, she fluctuated between anger and frustration at his inability to stay on track and just plain worry that something might have happened to him. Years ago, Neal had been fastidious about being on time but over the years, as family and work responsibilities had piled up, he'd found it increasingly difficult to stay on schedule, often giving in to his impulsive nature and getting sidetracked, forgetting to call and let her know he was running late. But this… the fallout from her sexual assault - Neal would never be late for _this._ Up until recently, he'd been supportive in every way - attentive, caring, loving as Sara struggled to get back on her feet. He'd attended therapy sessions with her for months, he'd been patient as they rebuilt their sexual intimacy and he was supportive in more ways than Sara could have possibly hoped for. There was no way he would be late for this if he could help it. But then again, his behaviour over the past little while had been anything but typical - or predictable.

It had been a gruelling few weeks and Neal had been having difficulty coping, reverting to his secretive conman ways and keeping her at arms length despite her efforts to break through his shell. He wasn't even bothering to hide his drinking any more, leaving half empty bottles in the family room, the kitchen and even in the bedside table in their bedroom. She suspected he was doing a fair bit of drinking in his studio too, although she’d refrained from going down there to investigate. He’d become increasingly defensive over the last few days as she’d become more and more adamant about him getting help and she continued to walk that fine line between nagging him into seeing someone and cutting him some slack.

They'd had a heated argument a few nights before and she'd come dangerously close to asking him to leave and not come back until he got his head straightened out. But what good would that do? It would only serve to isolate him even further and Sara didn't want to be responsible for him sinking even further into depression. At least with him nearby, as painful as it was to watch him self-destruct, she could keep a close eye on him and reassess the situation as things developed.

The good news was that his drinking was limited to bedtime when he was safe at home and the horrible habit didn't appear to be affecting his ability to function during the day. 

Sara credited her regular visits to Marion Birch’s office and the recent addition of sleeping pills to her nighttime routine with helping her cope. She hated taking any kind of medication, always had, but she had to admit that the little pill she took just before climbing into bed was helping her get a good night’s sleep and allowing her to wake up rested and able to face the day.

How could she begrudge Neal a few drinks at bedtime if that’s what it took to help him cope with the nightmare they were facing?

‘Sara?’ Mindy Miller’s voice said, pulling her out of her reverie. ‘I’m afraid we cant wait any longer. We need to go in.’

‘But…’ Sara began as she gave one last longing look towards the entrance.

‘It’s okay. Neal will find us when he gets here’ the woman said as she took Sara’s arm and helped her up. ‘Come on.’ 

WCWCWC

‘Can you please step out of the car, sir?’ the young officer asked as Neal immediately obliged.

‘Officer, I’m on my way to meet my wife…’ Neal began as he was interrupted.

‘Sir, please’ the officer insisted, instantly silencing him.

He studied Neal’s driver’s licence and the Santa Fe’s registration before glancing back at Neal who was standing shell shocked by the car door, waiting for some sort of verdict.

A second older man in uniform stepped out of the police cruiser to join his partner and Neal held his breath as the two men exchanged knowing looks.

‘Please wait here, sir’ the younger of the two said as they both returned to the police car.

Neal could see them punching information into their computer and chatting as he stood there, feeling totally exposed as people strolled up and down the busy sidewalks, oblivious to his fate.

The older officer stepped out of the cruiser and walked up to the car, poking his head into the back seat as Neal cringed. He'd made a quick stop at the liquor store on his way to the gallery and there, in plain view on the back seat, sat the bottle of whisky he'd used to fill up his flask right next to the paper bag he hadn't even bothered to stuff it back into.

‘Sir, have you been drinking today?’ asked the older officer as Neal briefly hesitated.

‘I… I had a drink at lunch’ Neal said, an understatement to say the least - but not an outright lie.

The two men huddled for a moment, conferring with each other as Neal fretted. He didn't _think_ he was over the legal limit for driving but he couldn't be one hundred percent sure. Like most people, he’d had his share of over imbibing over the years and he certainly wouldn't have gotten behind the wheel on _those_ occasions but the feeling he got from the few sips he'd taken from his flask had left him feeling relaxed and nothing more. He stood in the middle of the busy intersection in Manhattan, feeling totally humiliated as he watched the two officers discussing the situation, the odd passerby glancing in his direction. With any luck, the consequences would be limited to getting chastised for having an open bottle of alcohol in the car and a well deserved slap on the wrist for running a red light.

He thought of Sara, waiting for him a few blocks away, no doubt worried about him. He had just reached into his pocket to grab for his phone when the younger officer returned, looking him straight in the eye.

‘Sir, we have reason to believe you are driving under the influence and we’re going to need you to come down to the station with us for a chemical test.’

‘Chemical test?’ Neal repeated, in shock.

‘We can give you a field test right here if you prefer but it isn't as accurate as blood or urine.’

‘But, officer, I…’ Neal began in protest.

‘I need to remind you that refusal to submit to a chemical test carries penalties including an automatic one-year suspension of your driver’s licence and it could result in some jail time’ the officer continued as Neal stared ahead in disbelief.

He thought of his options; getting stopped for a suspected DUI was bad enough, blowing into one of those breathalyzer contraptions, in the middle of the busy downtown street as everyone watched, was downright humiliating.

‘Can I call my wife?’ he asked as he held up his phone.

‘Sir, you can do that from the station’ he said as he took Neal’s arm and guided him towards the police car.

Neal watched as the second officer walked over to the Santa Fe and got behind the wheel, moving it a few feet away into a no-tow zone before reappearing with the bottle of malt whisky in his hand, signalling his partner to load Neal up into the police cruiser.

Neal let out a nervous breath; at least they weren't cuffing him, saving him from further humiliation - although he'd been led away in handcuffs on more occasions than he cared to remember.

He was ushered into the back seat of the cruiser and he sat there, in shock, as the reality of what he'd done came clearly into focus.

WCWCWC

Peter thanked the older gentleman and walked him to the door of the gallery, holding it open for him as he left with his purchase. Thankfully, the business wasn't suffering despite the Caffrey family’s recent ordeal; the last thing Neal and Sara needed was to worry about their finances at a time when they needed to put their time and energy into helping Hope get better.

He returned to his desk and glanced out the window onto the busy street. Summer would be here in no time and the gallery would get even busier with tourists visiting the Big Apple and New Yorkers enjoying the good weather and lingering in the Art District.

He thought of Neal and his spiked coffee and wondered once more how much he should share with Sara. She had a right to know Neal’s drinking had ratcheted up a notch and yet, he wanted to give his best friend the benefit of the doubt. Although Neal would always be an impulsive person, he was nowhere near the reckless young man who had brazenly walked up to him outside the First Unity Bank thirty years before and handed him a green sucker with a huge grin on his face. Neal had settled down, raised a family, lived a (mostly) by the book existence and he was totally focussed on the wellbeing of those he loved. Surely, he wouldn't throw it all away by doing something as stupid as losing control of his alcohol intake. And yet…

Peter was still debating the question when he noticed his phone vibrating on his desk and he reached down for it, noticing Neal’s name on the screen. Speak of the devil. 

‘Hey buddy, what’s up?’ he said into the phone, trying to sound upbeat despite his misgivings.

‘Peter…’ came Neal’s shaky voice. ‘Can you come down to the Midtown Precinct on West 35th? I need your help.’

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

‘Ms Ellis, does this reflect to the best of your recollection, what happened that day?’ the woman, who had introduced herself as Assistant District Attorney Karen Baker, asked.

Sara swallowed and glanced down one last time at the typewritten page sitting on the table in front of her - her own words, taunting her, haunting her. She glanced nervously at Mindy Miller and nodded.

‘Yes, it does’ she said, her voice strong.

‘I’ll need you to sign right here’ the woman said as she handed Sara a pen and pointed to the signature line on the document.

Sara’s hand shook as she signed the bottom of the page, handing over the pen and smiling nervously at the young woman.

‘The district attorney’s office has determined that we have sufficient physical evidence to take this case to trial but it’s up to you what happens next. There is a process called plea bargaining where the prosecutor’s office negotiates with the accused’s lawyer and they arrive at a mutually agreed upon sentence commensurate with the crime. You wouldn't have to be there unless you wanted to. Or… we can go to trial.’

Mindy had already given Sara the broad strokes but now that the time had come to make a decision, Sara wasn't sure anymore whether or not she had the strength or the fortitude to go all the way and face that pale imitation of a human being in open court, in front of everyone. She had discussed it at length with Marion Birch who had been careful not to sway her patient one way or the other. Recuperating from a sexual assault was a very personal journey and each woman needed to follow her instincts and make her own decisions when it came to making peace with the ordeal she’d suffered. 

She recalled the discussions she’d had with Neal. He’d been careful to remain neutral as well, insisting that all he wanted was for her to listen to her heart and assuring her he would be by her side every step of the way, no matter what she decided.

Right! Look how that had turned out. He wasn't even there to help her through the preliminaries; could she really count on him being there when the time came to step into a courtroom and face the monster who had turned their lives upside down?

Damn it, where was he, anyway? He was her rock; just a soft smile or a gentle touch of his hand would have made all the difference…

‘Ms Ellis?’ the woman repeated, her voice patient.

Sara’s eyes went from Mindy Miller to the young woman as she nodded, with confidence.

‘I’d like to take this to trial’ she said. 

WCWCWC

Peter drove around the block one more time. Finding a parking spot in midtown on a busy weekday afternoon was not an easy feat. He still couldn't quite believe what Neal had blurted out over the phone but he'd dropped everything to come down and help his best friend get out of the mess he'd managed to get himself into.

He flashed back to all those times Neal had gotten himself into trouble over the years, especially when, as a young, impetuous CI, Neal couldn't control his impulses and would find himself facing a couple of overzealous thugs or worse yet, staring down the barrel of a gun. But things had changed over the years and, if he was completely honest, Peter would have to admit that Neal had gotten him out of as many tight spots as the other way around.

He let out an impatient sigh as he continued to search for a parking spot, noticing a parking garage a couple of blocks ahead and heading towards it. How could he have let Neal get behind the wheel when he knew he'd been drinking? He should have confronted him right there and then, although there had been absolutely no sign that Neal had been inebriated. He'd seen Neal drunk a few times over the years and he knew all the signs; drunk Neal always got glassy eyed and he became very relaxed, overly chatty and maudlin… and amorous if Sara was within reach. But he'd seen none of those signs in his best friend’s eyes when they'd chatted and he was having trouble reconciling the image of calm, collected Neal as he'd left the gallery with the sound of Neal’s shaky voice when he'd called him half an hour before.

If Neal _was_ arrested for driving under the influence, Peter knew the consequences would be far-reaching and would have an impact on him and his family for months, if not years, to come. Not only would Neal have his license revoked but he'd carry the stigma and shame of drunk driving for the rest of his life and he'd have to face his kids, something Peter knew would absolutely kill him. But worse yet, he would have to live with knowing that he could have injured or killed someone with his careless actions. 

Peter thought of the phone call he'd received from his buddy John Torres, right after Neal had left the gallery. The police investigation into Hope’s accident had finally led them to a suspect and Peter had been excited to share the news with Neal. But now… well, the timing couldn't be worse. In the circumstances, how could he tell Neal that his daughter had been hit by a drunk driver who had confessed everything to the police. 

What if Neal’s actions had led to a similar situation? What if _he_ had injured the loving daughter of some unsuspecting dad and ruined their lives just as his and Hope’s existence had been shattered?

He made it all the way up to the top level of the parking garage and parked, jumping out of the car to jog the two blocks back towards the police station, unsure what fate awaited him… and Neal.

WCWCWC

Neal stared at his pale reflection in the small washroom’s mirror and he glanced down at the urine specimen he'd just given, sitting on the edge of the sink, just waiting to seal his fate. Surely, his judgement couldn't have been that far off the mark, he thought as he studied what had become a shadow of his former self staring back at him. He noticed how his eyes were sunken and lifeless, something that was getting increasingly worse as the weeks passed and he found himself losing interest in all the things that usually made him so vibrant and full of life. Nothing meant anything to him anymore if Hope couldn't come back to them. He felt a sob escape his constricted throat at the thought of his baby girl lying in her hospital bed and he forced himself to focus on the situation.

Who the hell was he kidding? Of course, his drinking wasn't under control as he'd so dismissively told Peter and his mom before that. On a couple of nights, he'd decided to skip the routine and go straight to bed but despite his best intentions, as soon as Sara had fallen asleep, he’d found himself sitting at the kitchen table with a glass in his hand, staring down at the insipid liquid and wondering when it had taken such a strong hold of him.

He took out his phone to see if Sara had responded to his text but there was nothing but silence on the other end… whether it was because she was still in the meeting or just too damn pissed off to give him the time of day.

Neal stared down at the feeble attempt he'd made at communicating with her: ‘ _Sorry, something came up at work. Will fill you in later. Hope it’s going well. Love you.’_

His words sounded so lame… but he _couldn't_ bring himself to tell Sara the truth, no matter what. She’d already be so disappointed that he hadn't been there - telling her _why_ would only disillusion her further and he couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment that would fill her eyes, not when they were already dealing with so much.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Neal practically jumped out of his skin. He grabbed for the small sample and headed out to face the consequences of his actions.

WCWCWC

‘Let me drive you home’ Mindy said as they stepped out onto the busy sidewalk in downtown Manhattan.

‘I’m fine’ Sara said, although she was anything but. ‘You have to get back to work.’

‘It’s no big deal. Mike will be thrilled that I made it home before him for a change’ the woman said with a soft laugh.

Sara nodded in appreciation. It would be nice not to have to sit on the train for the long commute back to White Plains.

‘No news from Neal?’ Mindy asked as they took place next to each other in the car.

‘Just… just that he got held up at work’ Sara said as she stared down at her phone.

She still wasn't sure if she was worried about him or just plain pissed off at him for leaving her high and dry. Something major must have happened for him to bail on her at the last minute. It wasn't unheard of for the police or social services to pay a visit at the June Ellington School of Art. They dealt with a rough crowd and sometimes Neal had to act as a go-between with families of the troubled kids the school catered to. Hopefully, that’s all it was… some last minute meeting he couldn't get out of.

Mindy could sense that Sara didn't want to talk about it any more and she changed the subject as she put the car in gear and headed out.

‘Cody seems to be spending an awful lot of time over at your place these days’ she said as she thought of her son and young Liam Caffrey.

Sara smiled at the thought; if Hope’s horrible accident had done one good thing, it had been to reunite the two young men.

‘Yeah, well, Liam’s over the moon that Cody’s back in his life.’

‘They’re both great kids… but they’re so young’ Mindy commented as Sara nodded.

‘Yeah, but they’re both level-headed young men and Cody is really helping Liam cope with what’s happening with his sister.’

‘How is Hope? Any change?’ Mindy asked, not wanting to pry.

‘There’s some improvement. She’s been making a lot of different sounds and she opens her eyes a lot although she mostly looks through us and not at us… She _is_ tracking movement though and the doctors say that’s an improvement. We’re meeting with the medical team on Friday to get an update.’

Mindy reached out to put her hand on Sara’s and the women locked eyes for a moment in the middle of the chaos around them.

‘Sara’ she said with a warm smile. ‘I think you’re amazing.’

Sara smiled sadly and shrugged. ‘Just trying to get by one day at a time.’

WCWCWC

Neal was escorted back to the waiting room and instructed to sit and wait for the results of his test. He knew all too well that a failing grade meant he would be booked and charged and _that_ would set off a chain of events which would last for months on end. If he _was_ charged, he wasn't sure how he would be able to keep it from Sara; at some point, he would have to come clean and tell her the truth.

He was still holding out hope that he’d been under the legal limit, in which case he would be free to walk out of the police station without any further consequences. He felt the flask pressing against his chest and suddenly had the urge to pull it out and take a swig, something he realized wouldn't look great in the present circumstances. He managed to refrain although he'd been eyeing the washroom and wondering if he could make a quick trip there to indulge when he spotted Peter arriving and speaking to someone at the reception desk.

He waited while Peter was ushered through the door separating the reception area from the waiting room where he sat, his legs nervously bouncing as he waited for the axe to fall.

‘Neal!’ Peter said as he came into view. 

Neal scrambled to his feet and watched as his best friend ambled over, a look of concern and disappointment in his eyes. Surprisingly, the first words out of his mouth were comforting, although Neal knew Peter would be reading him the riot act any minute now.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked as Neal nodded and looked down at his feet in embarrassment.

‘I’m fine’ Neal muttered.

Peter dropped his voice and took Neal’s arm, urging him to sit down as he took the chair next to him. ‘What the hell were you doing?’

Neal looked up at Peter; there was no easy way to do this, he was going to spit it out and tell him the whole sordid tale.

‘I was running late to meet Sara and I ran a red light’ he admitted.

‘And they brought you in for a red light?’ Peter asked, knowing full well this was only the beginning of the story.

‘They… they spotted an open bottle of whiskey on the back seat of the car and…’

‘THEY WHAT?’ Peter echoed loudly as a woman sitting nearby turned to look at them.

Neal rolled his eyes and licked his lips as he waited for her to turn away.

‘I had a bottle in the back seat’ he whispered. ‘And… they asked me to submit to a breathalyzer or to come down for a… chemical test.’

‘Did you take the breathalyzer?’ Peter asked as he leaned in.

‘No, Peter! I didn’t! I… I really didn't want to be standing by the side of the road breathing into one of those things while everybody gawked at me’ Neal said, sounding petulant.

Peter took a deep breath as he tried to process everything he'd just heard.

‘And?’ he finally said.

‘I’m still waiting for the results’ Neal said meekly. ‘Peter, I’m _not_ drunk!’

Peter scrutinized his best friend as he tried to make up his own mind. ‘But you have been drinking, Neal. We both know that’ he said, his tone dripping with reprimand.

Neal looked away, his eyes moving to a spot somewhere on the floor between his two feet as hewaited for more. 

But it didn't come. Peter just sat next to him in silence as they awaited Neal’s fate.

After a few moments, Peter turned to look at his best friend. ‘Did you tell Sara?’ he asked, his voice even.

Neal looked up to meet Peter’s eyes and he shook his head. ‘And I’m _not_ telling her!’

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

‘What are you talking about, Neal? You can’t keep something like this from Sara!’ Peter said as they sat side by side in the booking room of the Midtown police station.

Neal stared down at the floor and shook his head; he still couldn't believe the situation he'd managed to get himself into.

‘You don't understand, Peter’ he finally said as he turned to look pleadingly at his best friend. ‘She’s going to be _so_ disappointed I wasn't there when she needed me… maybe even angry…’

Sara could certainly be volatile at times, especially when she was dealing with something as emotional as the fallout from the assault she’d suffered - she could just as well chew him out as give him the cold shoulder.

‘Finding out I’ve been stopped by the police and dragged in here because of… it’s just… it’s too much.’

Peter looked over at his best friend, his back hunched, his head down - no sign of the cocky, arrogant Neal Caffrey of days past, just a sad, broken man who couldn't cope with the curve ball life had thrown at him and his family.

His hand came up to touch Neal’s back and the younger man looked up at Peter, swallowing hard. ‘Look, if they charge me I’ll _have_ to come clean but… not today, not with everything she’s going through.’

The door to the inner offices opened and a large strapping police officer loomed menacingly in the doorway. In a strange twist of fate, he gave Neal the double finger point as he called his name.

‘Caffrey!’ he said.

WCWCWC

Sara walked into the house, surprised to find that the Santa Fe wasn't sitting in the driveway, as expected. Evidently, whatever had kept Neal away still hadn't wrapped up. She heard giggling at the back of the house and she made her way to the family room to find Caitlin, Liam and Cody on the couch watching television with Raffie cosily snuggled in between the two boys.

‘Mom! You’re home!’ Liam exclaimed as he stood to greet her. ‘How did it go?’

Sara gave him a sad smile as she reached up to tousle his hair and she watched in amusement as her son cringed at the gesture.

‘It was okay’ she said dismissively. ‘What’s going on here?’

‘We’re just hanging out. Oh, Aunt Elizabeth called - twice. She said she’d been texting you all afternoon’ he said as he returned to sit next to Cody on the couch.

Sara glanced down at her phone, disheartened. She’d turned the volume down after Neal had texted her and she was just now noticing she’d gotten several texts and a voice message from Elizabeth.

‘Has your dad called?’ she asked, re-reading the lone text from Neal which had come just after two o’clock.

‘No’ Liam responded absentmindedly as his attention returned to the television screen.

Sara sat at the kitchen table and dialled the Burke residence, eager to talk to her best friend.

El was instantly on the other end of the line. ‘So, how did it go?’ she asked.

‘It was okay… it was a little nerve wracking’ Sara began before blurting out what was really on her mind. ‘Neal never made it.’

‘What? What do you mean, never made it?’

‘He texted me there was some sort of an emergency at work. But Mindy Miller was there with me, thank God.’

‘You sound awful’ Elizabeth said, stating the obvious, as unkind as it was.

The silence on the other end confirmed her suspicions. ‘Look, why don't we meet up for a drink and you can tell me all about it. Peter’s running late, he said he wouldn't be home for another couple of hours.’

Sara glanced over at the threesome on the couch; she was pretty sure they would be happy to order in and sit around doing more of the same.

‘I’m just not sure when Neal’s coming home’ she answered, hesitating.

‘Neal’s a big boy and I happen to know he can get his own dinner. Come on - he’ll be there when you get back. Drinks are on me’ El insisted as Sara finally gave in.

She grabbed for her phone and began texting: _Going out for a drink with El. See you when I get home._

WCWCWC

Neal felt his phone vibrating in his pocket as he followed the officer into the small booking room, the large man pointing to a metal chair and taking a seat across from him. Neal prepared for the bad news, still holding on to a slim hope of a reprieve for his foolhardy actions.

‘Mr. Caffrey’ the officer began. ‘We’re charging you with running a red light and for having an open container of alcohol in your vehicle.’

Neal nodded; it was hard to refute either one of those charges. He was guilty on both counts and perhaps of a much more serious offence.

‘What about…’ he began as the officer pulled out a sheet of paper and glanced down at it.

‘You must have been born under a lucky star. Your blood alcohol level clocked in at .072 just under the legal limit.’

Neal felt his whole body relax as the significance of the officer’s words seeped in. Despite himself, he smiled and the officer frowned at him.

‘I wouldn't be too pleased if I were you. Driving around with that much alcohol in your blood is nothing to be proud of’ he reprimanded as he glared at Neal.

The small smile which had appeared on his face promptly faded as Neal took in the serious look of rebuke in the officer’s eyes.

‘Of course it isn’t’ Neal admitted, none too proud of his reaction.

The relief had been instantaneous and he realized how close he'd come to creating even more pain and chaos for his family, let alone putting innocent people’s lives at risk.

‘We’ll process the paperwork and you’ll receive an invoice for the misdemeanours you’ve been charged with. You can fight them in court if you feel the need to.’

‘No. No. Of course not’ Neal said, his voice quiet. ‘I’m guilty of both of those charges and I’ll… I’ll gladly pay the fines.’

‘We just need you to sign some paperwork and you can be on your way’ the burly man said as he stood, towering over Neal. ‘Sir, one word of advice. You’re playing Russian roulette if you’re drinking and driving. It’s just a question of time before you’re arrested for being over the limit or before you hurt someone.’

‘Yes officer’ Neal uttered humbly as he took the tongue lashing, one he knew he fully deserved.

He’d dodged a bullet and he knew it; maybe now, he could finally face up to what his seemingly innocuous drinking was doing to him and those he loved.

WCWCWC

‘So, what happens now?’ El asked as the two women munched on artichoke dip and sipped margaritas.

‘Well, now we wait for a court date to open up and that can take several months, up to a couple of years’ Sara responded. ‘But I really want to see this through to the end.’

Elizabeth Burke leaned in as she listened.

‘I want to be able to look the asshole straight in the eye and let him see that he didn't succeed in destroying me’ Sara added, her voice shaky.

It had been a hell of a journey, lasting several months and impacting all those around her as she slowly but surely regained her self confidence and she and Neal had worked relentlessly to return their relationship to its previous state. He’d been steadfast by her side for all those months and she still couldn't believe he hadn't found a way to be there when they were so close to the finish line.

‘I’m pissed off at Neal. He knew how important this was to me… to both of us’ she said, rancour obvious in her voice.

‘Still no word from him?’

‘Just his earlier text about something happening at work but… damn it, El, he should have found a way to be there.’

Elizabeth reached over to touch her best friend’s hand. ‘Don’t you think you should hear him out before sending him to the gallows?’

Sara’s eyes narrowed as she took in El’s words. This was Neal after all and although there was no disputing he'd been behaving out of character since Hope’s accident, he was still the man she worshipped, the man she would do just about anything for. Surely, he deserved a chance to explain why he'd let her down so unexpectedly.

‘I suppose…’ she muttered.

Elizabeth glanced at her watch, noting it was going on eight o’clock. ‘Look, he's probably home by now. Why don't you head back? I’m sure he's sitting there, anxiously waiting for you to get home.’

‘If he hasn't started drinking, that is…’ Sara said, her voice bitter.

‘So, things haven't gotten any better?’ El asked.

‘He slept in our bed twice in the past week. Most nights, he just passes out on the couch.’

‘I really don't know how he's keeping up the brutal pace. Is he still doing the early morning shift at the hospital?’

‘Every single morning’ Sara replied. ‘I don't know how he does it either.’

‘Look, Sara. It’s been a horrible few weeks but Hope is showing signs of improvement. And despite the drinking, Neal’s been there for you, hasn’t he?’

Sara felt the now familiar lump forming in her throat. ‘I suppose… El, I just want Hope to get better and I want Neal to stop feeling so guilty that he feels the need to drown in a fifth of scotch every night.’

El smiled at her friend and squeezed her hand.

WCWCWC

‘I hope this is enough of a wake-up call’ Peter admonished as the two men settled in front of a couple of cups of coffee.

Neal looked up guiltily at his best friend, flashing back to all those times he'd managed to get himself into trouble and had to suffer the wrath of Special Agent Peter Burke.

‘It is’ he said. ‘No more booze for me.’

‘Neal, I really think you should get some professional help. What about that therapist -’

‘Peter! Stop!’ Neal said impetuously. ‘I don't _need_ help, I’m fine.’

He stared down at his shaking hands - a recent phenomenon - and he put the trembling down to the scare he'd just had as he'd awaited his fate at the police station.

Peter clammed up. His advice was obviously not needed - or wanted, for that matter. From all accounts, Neal had been drinking pretty heavily and it was no small feat to quit cold turkey. He'd seen one of his uncles struggle with alcohol abuse for years before dying of cirrhosis of the liver at the age of sixty-two. Neal might be putting up a good front but his body would be craving the poison he'd been dumping into it daily for the past few weeks and it might not be as easy as he thought to quit.

‘Well, just remember there _is_ help out there. And there’s no shame in asking for it.’

Neal gave him an angry, dismissive look before softening as he thought of how Peter had come to his rescue once more.

‘Look, Peter, I know you mean well and I really appreciate you coming to the police station and helping me get the car back’ he began as he spied the look of concern in Peter’s eyes. ‘And I… I will ask for help if I think I need it.’

‘So, what about Sara?’ Peter asked. If Neal was holding his ground about keeping this from Sara, Peter would have to do the same with _his_ wife as well - something he hated doing.

‘I _can’t_ , Peter, I just can’t tell her. It’ll destroy her and she's already dealing with plenty. Do you think you could…’ Neal said, letting his voice trail. He knew it was a lot to ask of his best friend.

‘I suppose…’ Peter responded as he eyed Neal up and down…the lengths he'd go to in order to protect his best friend. ‘But don't let me down here, Neal. Get yourself together and I’ll hold off on telling El but if you don't get your act together…’

‘I will, Peter, I will. I promise. I’ve learned my lesson.’

And as he said the words, Neal realized he meant them… well, at least in the moment.

WCWCWC

By the time Neal came home, the house was quiet. Caitlin was busy studying for finals, Cody had gone home and Liam was up in his room on his computer. He made himself a sandwich with odds and ends he found in the fridge and tidied up the family room as he waited for Sara to come home. A half bottle of scotch lay on the side table by the couch and Neal scooped it up, without a thought, and put it away in the cupboard in the kitchen before settling in with a glass of milk and his snack.

He could do this, of course he could. He'd done a lot more challenging things in his life; surely not drinking himself into a stupor before bedtime was doable. He felt his hands shaking as he brought the food to his mouth and he shook his head to snap out of his funk. Over the past few days, he’d noticed his hands shaking as he began to sober up and how he calmed after a couple of stiff belts of scotch but tonight, that was not an option. He needed a clear head to talk to Sara. He had plenty of ‘splaining’ to do and he couldn't afford to have his mind impaired by booze while he tried to get back into Sara’s good graces.

Lying to Sara was never his best option - he'd found that out years before. However, in this case, it appeared to be the lesser of two evils. She’d be disappointed enough as it was about him being a ‘no-show’ at the court house, adding his little escapade to the mix would only upset her even more. Anyway, it was over and done with and he'd managed to escape without a scratch, something he was very grateful for.

He startled as he heard the front door open and he put down his glass of milk, standing at attention as he waited for his beautiful tornado in heels to make her appearance.

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

Neal cleared his throat as he waited for Sara to appear. He heard the familiar sound of her purse being dumped by the front door, followed by the sharp sound of her heels as they hit the hardwood floor, abandoned right by the staircase - where he inevitably tripped over them most nights, cursing her carelessness. Her quiet footfalls were heard as she appeared in the kitchen and he watched with interest as she made her way over to the fridge, not having noticed him standing there, motionless, by the couch in the family room.

‘You’re home!’ he said as she startled and turned to face him.

The look on her face was a combination of hurt, anger and disappointment and his first impulse was to run over and sweep her up into his arms, admit all his sins and beg for her forgiveness. But that wasn't what Sara needed - or wanted. This, he knew from his many years of loving her. She would need some time to vent before he could even hope to placate her so he remained still and waited for her to say something, anything that would help him gauge where her mind was at.

Her hands went to her hips and she stood, brow knitted as she examined him, seemingly deciding there and then whether or not what he was about to give her by way of explanation was a crock of shit.

‘I get it. You’re angry…’ Neal attempted as he took a few steps towards her, his clear blue orbits riveted on her stormy eyes.

‘Among _other_ things…’ she said as she studied him. ‘Neal, you let me down today.’

The seemingly innocuous comment went straight to his heart. He'd let her down and that was so much worse than having to face the wrath of Sara Ellis. Her anger, he could handle. He could cajole her, charm her, entice her until she gave in to his charms and melted with laughter in his arms. But disappointment was something else altogether; it meant that the sacred commitment they'd made to one another had been violated, that he had fallen short of his promise to be by her side when she needed him the most.

‘I’m sorry…’ he said, his voice choked as he prepared to feed her the fabricated story he'd been working on for the past hour. ‘There was a disturbance at the school and I totally lost track of time.’

‘You lost track of time?’ she repeated, her voice incredulous.

‘There was a fight and the police had to be called… things just got a little crazy’ he began, the lie slipping much too easily from his lips.

She kept studying him, watching for those almost imperceptible Caffrey tells of his. He avoided her eyes and took a few more steps towards her, finally reaching her and grabbing for her hand as it hung limply by her side.

She took a deep breath and suddenly, her disappointment morphed into rage as she thought of the events of that fatal day, events she had been forced to relive in great detail as she’d given her statement.

‘You don't think things got a little crazy for _me_ when that asshole was jerking off in my face… or when he was feeling me up like some common whore?’ Sara said, losing control.

‘Sara… don’t’ Neal pleaded as he held her shaking shoulders.

‘Don’t what, Neal?’ she responded breathlessly. ‘This is never going to end for me… not really. I still see his eyes some nights… that sickening, smug look on his face while I was lying there with my hands tied behind my back.’

Neal was rendered speechless by the pain he could see in her eyes, so raw, even after all these months. Sara stared into his eyes and this time, there was a flash of anger when she spoke, her voice accusatory. ‘Neal, I needed you today and you _weren't_ there.’

‘Babe, I’m sorry’ he pleaded, his heart breaking. ‘I _should_ have been there.’

‘This… thing has been hanging over our heads for months. We got through it because… because we had each other to lean on.’

Neal listened as his wife spoke. She was one hundred percent right and there was nothing he could possibly say to excuse his behaviour, least of all tell her the actual reason he'd been a no-show. Instead, he stood there and let her take her anger and frustration out on him; after all, he deserved everything she could possibly throw at him… and more.

‘Do you have any idea how it felt to be sitting there, waiting for you to show up. And then, to have to go in and rehash the whole damn thing all over again, the seamy details, the disgusting memories…’

Her voice was beginning to shake and Neal tried to pull her in to comfort her as her voice grew louder.

‘I needed you there, dammit’ she cried. ‘I needed to know we were in this together…’

‘We are, honey, we are’ Neal attempted just as she brought her fist up and hit him soundly on the chest. He flinched but didn't attempt to pull back; it was a relief to have her this angry at him, merely a reflection of how disgusted and ashamed he was with himself.

She began to sob and Neal’s arms moved to enfold her. This time, she didn't fight him, instead melting into his arms, feeling his body holding her up, sheltering her from all the pain that had reappeared so unexpectedly.

‘You bastard!’ she moaned into his ear as he ran his hands up and down her back. ‘You son of a bitch!’

Neal blinked as the insults were hurled at him; she couldn't have hurt him more if she’d put a knife through his heart. 

‘Baby… baby… I’m so sorry’ he whispered, riddled with guilt.

They held each other, both of them overcome with regret for the carefree life they'd lived before this man had robbed them of their innocence.

‘I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…’ Neal kept repeating as Sara sobbed in his arms, bringing her arms up around his back, grabbing onto his shirt and holding on to him for dear life.

WCWCWC

‘I’m going up to bed’ Sara declared once things had calmed down.

She fully expected Neal to make up some excuse to stay up awhile, as was his habit lately, but he just took her hand and followed her up the stairs, intent on staying close to his wife. She’d been forced to face things on her own and he was determined to forgo his usual nightly routine in order to comfort her until she was peacefully asleep.

It had been weeks since he'd come up to bed with her or gone to bed without a drink and Neal got her settled, getting her a glass of water and running his hand through her hair as she took her usual sleeping pill. He settled in next to her, holding her against his body, remembering how simple things used to be before guilt took over his life and rendered him a slave to a good bottle of Jack Daniels. 

‘This is nice’ she mumbled, her voice slurred as she began to nod off. ‘I missed this.’

‘Me too’ Neal admitted. It felt so right to be laying there together, united in facing whatever hardship lay ahead.

Despite the silence in the house, Neal’s mind remained in overdrive. He flashed back to the night of the accident, remembering how hopeless he'd felt as Hope lay in the middle of the road, fighting for her life. He thought of his little girl laying unconscious miles away, of Sara suffering at the hands of her kidnappers and the rough months that lay ahead as they tried to put their fractured lives back together. He shuddered as he fought the urge to get up and seek solace in the familiar bottle of whiskey choosing instead to cling to his wife, his anchor, his saviour, holding her against his trembling body.

After a while, he felt Sara slip into blissful sleep, envying her the ability to quiet her brain when there was so much going on in their lives.

He slipped out of her arms, sitting up on the edge of the bed and running his hands through his hair as he thought of his conversation with Peter. As much as he wanted to keep his word, he longed for the soothing way in which a couple of tumblers of scotch numbed his overactive mind and managed to silence the persistent memories that continued to haunt him. With one swift movement, he opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand, instantly spotting the bottle he'd stashed there for those nights when he woke in a panic.

He grabbed the bottle and headed to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

WCWCWC

‘We got a new exhibit in today. You'd love this guy’s style, very down to earth’ Cameron whispered as he held Hope in his arms.

He was feeling sleepy and as he often did, he had climbed onto the narrow bed next to her and was cradling her in his arms as she lay limp by his side. The nursing staff was used to the young man’s visits extending well into the night, often until morning. They were indulgent of the young couple who had been so tragically and senselessly torn from each other just as they were beginning their new life together. 

Hope let out a soft moan and Cameron turned to kiss her forehead. ‘He mainly does portraits but he has this amazing autumn scene of a pumpkin patch surrounded by fallen leaves. I was thinking of saving up and getting it for us. What do you think, sweetie?’ he asked as he stopped and waited for an answer.

As if on cue, Hope let out a sound that was undecipherable but which he took to be a green light on his proposal.

‘Great. I’ll put a deposit on it’ he answered as he pulled her closer.

WCWCWC

Neal sat on the toilet seat in the bathroom, sipping his poison straight from the bottle. The emotions which had been coursing through his body, the guilt, anger, self loathing and shame, had thankfully begun to fade as the contents of the bottle disappeared down his gullet. He let out a caustic laugh and glanced up at the mirror, surprised at the sight of his reflection with a bottle in his hand. He looked pathetic and he laughed again at the sight of himself in such a compromising position. He'd been kidding himself into thinking that getting sloshed every night was a choice and that he could just as easily make the choice to stop on a moments’ notice.

He felt the warmth of the liquid coat his insides and let his head drop back in relief. He didn't usually imbibe quite this much although he was very liberal in his estimation of his daily intake - anywhere from six to eight ounces of good forty percent scotch usually got him buzzed enough to fall asleep but on this night, he was losing track as he drank straight from the bottle.

He got up off the toilet, his gait unsteady, and he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at himself.

‘You’re an asshole Caffrey, you know that?’ he slurred as he held on to the edge of the vanity to keep from keeling over. ‘You stood by and watched your daughter get hit by a car and tonight…’ he said with sadistic laugh. ‘You lied to your wife about getting pulled over for drinking and driving.’

He ran his hand over his face and winced. ‘You are _so_ pathetic’ he said as he stared himself in the eye and shook an angry finger at his reflection. 

He glanced down at the bottle, noticing about an inch left in the bottom and he chugged it back, almost falling over as he let his head fall back.

‘Okay buddy…’ he said to himself. ‘I think you’ve had plenty… Nighty night’ he whispered as he blew his reflection a kiss.

He staggered into the bedroom, tripping over a pair of shoes and giggling as he struggled to make his way to his side of the bed.

‘You’re lucky your wife is sound asleep’ he moaned as he let himself fall onto the bed. ‘I don't think she’d be too happy to know you finished the bottle.’

He somehow got himself situated under the blankets, feeling the room spinning around him and he grabbed on to Sara to keep the bed from moving. She let out a soft moan as he curled up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.

‘I’m sorry…’ he managed to murmur before falling into the deep, dark hole of nothingness.

TBC 


	28. Chapter 28

Neal felt the bed dip underneath him and he held on to the mattress for fear of falling off. He felt like he was out at sea; his head was spinning, his stomach was unsettled and suddenly Sara’s voice was in his ear, much too loud and much too shrill.

‘Neal! You slept through the alarm!’ she shouted as he forced one eye open - something that turned out to be very painful indeed.

‘Mmmfff. Whaaat?’ he responded groggily.

‘It’s seven thirty!’ she cried out as she leapt from the bed. ‘What happened? Why aren't you up?’

Neal’s stomach did a few more flip-flops as he tried to get his other eye open. Owww! Definitely not a good idea.

He turned over in bed in order to shield his eyes and he covered his head with his pillow, groaning at the unwelcome sounds and insistent light.

Sara was already doing her morning dance around the room, pulling clothes out of drawers, stepping not so delicately around him as she tried to make up for being an hour late.

‘Caitlin! Liam! Up!’ she screamed much too loudly for Neal’s pounding head.

She glanced over at her husband, who was buried under the blankets and she took a moment to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling the pillow off his face to get a better look.

‘What’s the mat - Oh, my God, Neal, you smell like a distillery’ she complained as Neal frowned and grabbed for the pillow, once more covering his face.

The vague recollection of watching himself down an excessive amount of scotch while sitting on the toilet came flooding back and he winced at the unflattering image.

‘I don’t feel so good’ he moaned, not that he was expecting much sympathy for his predicament, considering he was its lone architect.

Sara stood, ignoring his comment and continued to grab for her clothes as the shower came on - probably Liam who still had hopes of catching the bus to school.

‘Today is our meeting with Dr. White. Do you think you can manage to remember that?’ she asked mordantly.

He supposed he deserved that one after what had happened the previous day.

‘Four o’clock, right?’ came Neal’s muffled voice from underneath his hiding place.

‘And don't forget to pick Liam up at school, he wants to come along.’

Neal nodded and Sara watched the pillow moving up and down on the bed in response.

She seemed to think better of it and she returned, uncovering his face one more time to make her point.

‘Pull yourself together, Neal. Your daughter needs you’ she barked before she stepped away, leaving him feeling like a piece of crap.

WCWCWC

Holly Sanderson propped up her patient and watched as Hope’s eyes flew open, looking straight at her.

‘Good morning!’ she called out as Hope stared straight ahead, expressionless. ‘I thought you might enjoy sitting up for a while. Your dad must be running late this morning, that’s not like him, is it?’ she said, now fully accustomed to having one-sided conversations with her favourite patient.

‘Let’s check your catheters and get you washed up so you can look nice when he gets here, okay?’ she continued.

She watched with interest as Hope tracked her movements, a new development she’d been noticing the last few days. She made a mental note to mention it to the doctor - this was definitely progress.

‘I saw your fiancé leaving earlier. I guess he spent the night again, huh? He's really sweet, Hope, I think he's a keeper’ she said as she ran her hand through Hope’s hair. ‘How about I comb your hair out for you and we can tie it back with a ribbon, that look is nice on you.’

Hope groaned in response and Holly smiled at her patient. ‘That’s the spirit’ she said.

WCWCWC

Neal let the noise in the house die down before daring to peak out from his hiding place under the blankets. He was feeling horrible in more ways than one and he was thankful for some alone time while he pulled himself together. He wandered into the washroom unsteadily, his head pounding and his stomach still unsettled and he stared at himself in the mirror as an image from the previous night appeared, unbidden.

What the hell had possessed him to behave so recklessly after having just had the scare of his life? He'd never been addicted to anything in his life - except for the thrill of the con which had had a hold on him for more years than he cared to admit. But alcohol? He'd always been a wine drinker, a connoisseur in fact, and he enjoyed a glass of fine wine as part of a good meal or on a quiet evening shared with his wife or friends.But it had _never_ been about the buzz. Lately, it was as if he needed to keep drinking up until the time he heard that little ‘click’ in his brain, telling him the pesky thoughts had successfully been silenced and he could finally relax and get some sleep. And this drinking in the daytime - what was up with that? When had his body begun to revolt and crave that feeling during his waking hours?

Eying himself up and down, he noticed he'd lost a few pounds. With Hope in hospital, he'd been off his game in more ways than one. He'd lost interest in preparing food, cutting corners and snacking throughout the day instead of having three square meals. And the booze - well, it was a very poor substitute for a healthy diet of fruits and vegetables.

He noticed his hands shaking and he stared down, horrified. That was another aspect of his newly discovered fascination with fine whiskey that he hadn't seen coming. His body was changing in response to his alcohol intake and a stiff belt seemed like the only thing that took the edge off and chased away those pesky shakes.

He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over him and cleanse away all those annoying cobwebs and by the time he stepped out, he was feeling human again, although the shaking had still not subsided. He would have to be careful about his level of consumption during the day; he sure as hell didn't want the humiliation of being hauled into the police station again anytime soon.

He dressed casually, deciding he was going to take it easy until their afternoon appointment at the hospital and he checked the time before putting on a pot of coffee. It was already 9:00 and he thought of his daughter, lying in her hospital bed, all alone. This was the first morning in nearly eight weeks that he hadn't been there and he wondered if she would be aware of his absence. He picked up the phone and dialled the eighth floor of Bronx Lebanon, asking for Hope’s nurse.

‘Hi Holly, this is Neal Caffrey. I was calling to see how Hope was doing this morning. I… I had an early morning meeting and I wasn't able to make it in’ he lied, as always, worried about what other people might think of his shortcomings.

Raffie sat by his feet, staring up at him expectantly and he reached into the cupboard to grab for some dog food which he placed by the island in its usual spot, the dog diving in as soon as he stepped away.

‘She’s sitting up in bed and her eyes were open when I left her’ the nurse explained. ‘She’s been doing a lot of tracking of movement lately. I got the feeling she was looking around the room, waiting for you to appear.’

Although her comment was meant as encouragement regarding Hope’s progress, it had the opposite effect and Neal’s heart sank as he thought of his baby girl sitting there, waiting for him to show up while he was recuperating with a nasty hangover. He shook off the feeling and grabbed for the bottle of scotch in the kitchen cupboard as he spoke.

‘My wife and I will be in later. We have a meeting with Dr. White this afternoon’ he stated as he poured a healthy dollop of scotch into his coffee cup. ‘Would you tell her I’ll see her then?’

‘Will do, Mr. Caffrey’ Holly said. ‘You have a good day!’

He had just finished topping off his cup with some coffee and cream when he heard a noise coming from the basement and he took a few tentative steps towards the staircase as he called down.

‘Anybody down there?’ he called out as the dog looked up with interest.

‘It’s just me!’ came Caitlin’s voice from the studio.

He made his way down the stairs, Raffie following close on his heels. As expected, Caitlin was working away in the studio, hands dirty as she gave shape to a lump of clay which sat on a table in the middle of the room.

‘Hey!’ Neal said as he raised his eyebrow in question.

Apparently, he'd forgotten today was an important day for her; she couldn't blame him, considering everything that was on his mind. To his unspoken question, she looked up and smiled nervously.

‘My meeting… with my mom…’ she said as she kept working.

Neal gasped at his lack of sensitivity. ‘Is that today? Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I completely forgot’ he blurted out, feeling like a very poor excuse for a foster dad.

‘It’s okay’ she mumbled as she returned to her sculpture. ‘You have enough on your mind without…'

‘No Caitlin…’ Neal said as he put down his cup and walked over to where she stood, apparently immersed in her newest project. ‘I _should_ have remembered.’

He searched her eyes; she was downplaying the encounter but he knew all too well she was dreading it almost as much as she was looking forward to it. The decision to meet with her mom had been a difficult one but in the end, the teen had decided to give the woman a chance and see where they might want to take their relationship from this point on.

‘How do you feel about it?’ he asked, urging her to stop for a moment and look at him.

She shrugged and peeked out from under her blond bangs to face him. He and Sara had been there for her without fail for the past year and she couldn't have asked for more. The last thing she wanted was to hurt their feelings by seeing her mom again.

‘I don’t know…’ she murmured. ‘I guess I… I don't want to hurt your feelings.’

‘Honey, we've talked about this. This is about _you_ , not us’ he replied, his hand on her shoulder.

‘Besides, you've been terrific since… since the accident. Don't think we haven't noticed. Peter says you've been a real help at the gallery and my mom told me you're doing really well with your volunteering at the day care centre.’

She smiled shyly at the compliments and nodded.

‘Miranda still going with you?’ he asked, referring to the social worker who'd been assigned to Caitlin’s case for the past few years.

‘She’s picking me up in an hour’ Caitlin said as she moved to the large, industrial sized sink and began washing her hands. ‘I guess I should go get changed.’

Neal watched as she headed up the stairs. There was so much to be thankful for, including Caitlin’s new outlook on life - something his mom had been instrumental in helping shape. And yet, all he could see when he closed his eyes every night was his baby girl lying in the middle of an abandoned street.

He took a deep breath and grabbed for his coffee, taking a long, slow sip.

WCWCWC

‘You all right?’ Lydia Jordan asked as she sat across from her boss, looking like a beached whale.

‘Yeah, why?’ Sara replied absentmindedly.

‘Because that’s the third sweetener you’ve put in your coffee’ she said as Sara frowned.

‘Oh, shit!’ she said, standing to pour herself a fresh cup.

‘What’s up? You’ve been distracted all day’ Lydia said.

The Caffreys had been to hell and back over the past couple of months and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on.

‘I thought Hope was doing better’ she added as Sara’s eyes darkened.

At the mention of her daughter’s name, Sara’s face contorted and she began to cry.

‘Oh, Sara, what did I say? Did something happen?’ Lydia asked as she struggled to get out of her chair and over to her friend’s side. She was eight months along and much bigger than the first time around. With a little manoeuvring, she made her way over to Sara and managed to wrap her arm around her shoulder.

Sara swallowed and tried to speak, shaking her head. ‘It’s not you… It’s just…’

‘But you said you were meeting the doctors today and that there was some improvement in Hope’s condition.’

‘There is…’ Sara began, her voice faltering. ‘It’s just…. everything. Hope… getting ready to go to trial… Neal…’

‘Neal? What’s going on with Neal? Is he still drinking?’

Sara nodded and wiped her eyes. ’It’s gotten worse. He drinks every night until he passes out and… I don't know how to reach him any more.’

Lydia sat by her side, rubbing Sara’s back as she fell apart in her arms. They'd discussed Neal’s drinking on a couple of occasions but it had seemed fairly innocuous, just a broken man going through a rough time who had a couple of drinks before going to bed at night, nothing more.

Sara looked at her friend, her eyes sad. ‘I’ve tried everything to get him to go for help but he won't listen to me. I’m afraid I’m losing him - ’

‘Oh, Sara. You're not losing him. He's in there, somewhere.’

Sara nodded, unable to speak. ‘It’s bad enough we've lost Hope, I can’t… I can't lose _him_ too.’

‘Neal loves you… he's just going through a rough patch.’

Lydia stopped for a moment, hesitating before she went on. Despite their friendship, she was a private person who didn't share very easily.

‘You know, right after Beatrice was born, Sam went through a period when he pulled away from me’ she confided.

Sara’s gaze came to rest on her young protegée’s eyes. ‘He was spending all his time at the store… I even thought he might be having an affair.’

Sara thought of Sam Jordan, the sweet man she’d gotten to know over the years and she frowned; he was totally devoted to his wife and daughter.

‘It lasted for weeks. He would come home late at night and fall into bed without even asking about Bea and I thought we were drifting apart.’

Sara listened as Lydia continued. ‘It took a while but in the end, he admitted he was freaking out about becoming a dad. As much as we’d wanted a baby, he was having trouble coping with the responsibility and the thought that this little person was not going to go away - not anytime soon, anyway.’

‘Just don't give up on Neal. Keep trying to reach him - he's in there… somewhere.’

The phone rang on Sara’s desk and both of them startled at the unexpected sound.

‘Sara Ellis’ she said just as she recognized her son’s cell phone number on the display. ‘Liam? Honey, what’s wrong? Slow down, slow down.’

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

Neal sat behind the wheel, in front of White Plains District High, waiting for Liam to return with the book he'd forgotten in his locker. He could see the senior football team off in the distance, practicing some set play as the sun shone brightly on this late May afternoon. He thought briefly of his youth and how he'd always wanted to play sports while he was growing up in St. Louis, Missouri. Of course, fate had intervened and taken him down a much different path, one with disreputable pool halls, two bit hustlers and petty crime. He shook off the nostalgia - there was no point in having regrets. To their credit, he and Sara had succeeded in giving their children all the opportunities he hadn't had in his troubled youth.

His mind wandered to Hope and her amazing talent as an artist and he felt his throat tighten as he wondered what the future held for her. Would she ever pick up a paint brush again? As he'd done so many times, he recalled that fateful night in late March when they’d taught that art class together, the gleam in her bright blue eyes, the excitement as she shared her love of painting with those young kids. It felt like years ago…

He felt his heart skip a beat and he was tempted to grab for the flask in his jacket pocket to take a steadying drink but he somehow managed to refrain. He'd had just enough of the age old whiskey to steady his nerves but not so much that he didn't feel in control behind the wheel. And besides, Liam would be back any second. He needed to pace himself if he was going to drive safely and he reminded himself to be patient. When he got to the hospital, he would indulge in a nice big gulp of the amber liquid before they went in to meet with the doctors.

He checked the time and glanced over towards the front door of the school. What was taking Liam so long?

WCWCWC

‘Honey, calm down’ Sara said from her desk at Sterling Bosch. ‘Start at the beginning.’

Liam took a calming breath on the other end of the line as he glanced anxiously up the hallway, nervous his dad might come looking for him.

‘Dad is here to pick me up but when I got in the car… well, I could smell _booze_ on him.’

Sara let out a long, painful sigh. She’d been afraid that, at some point, Neal might start drinking during the day and now, her worst fears were coming true.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked, hoping desperately that Liam was wrong in his assessment of the situation.

‘Mooom!’ he whined. ‘I don't know what to do. I made up some lame excuse about forgetting my math book but… Mom, should I get in the car with him?’

Sara thought of all those lectures she and Neal had given their kids about drinking and driving and their admonitions to never get in a car with someone who'd been drinking. It was hypocritical not to hold themselves up to the same standard they’d worked so hard to instil in their kids.

‘Mom, I don’t want to hurt Dad’s feelings…’ Liam’s broken voice said at the other end. ‘He doesn't _look_ drunk but… he’s been drinking, that’s for sure.’

Sara stood and began pacing. She couldn't put Liam in a potentially dangerous situation - or Neal for that matter. But she knew Neal would be devastated if he was accused of doing something that could conceivably harm his kids - he was an amazing dad who’d always put his children’s wellbeing ahead of his own. She reminded herself that her husband wasn't his usual, clear thinking self these days; if he couldn't see the potential danger in what he was doing, it was her job to call him on it.

‘Honey, you did the right thing calling me’ she said, trying to reassure her son. ‘Your dad hasn't … well, he hasn't been himself lately but he would never knowingly do anything to hurt you, you know that, right?’

‘I know Mom, that’s why I don't want to… I just don't know what to do.’

It would be unfair to ask her son to confront his dad about drinking and driving. Neal was his authority figure and she had to thread lightly to preserve the fragile balance between father and son.

‘Look, I’ll call Daddy right now and talk to him. And I’m calling a cab so you two can make it to the hospital before 4:00. Honey, don’t get in the car with him and… if you can help it, don't let him drive off on his own.’

Liam hung up the phone and made his way slowly down the hall, towards the school exit while Sara stared down at her phone, hoping for inspiration on how to confront her husband without totally destroying him.

WCWCWC

Neal glanced nervously at his watch. It was a good thirty minute drive to the Bronx from White Plains - and that was at the best of times. He hoped traffic wouldn't be too bad. He didn't want to be late for their appointment with Dr. White. He'd already let his daughter down once today and he didn't relish the thought of doing it again.

His phone rang and he reached into his pocket, his hand grazing the flask which was fast becoming his best friend. Sara’s name appeared on the display. She probably didn't trust him to remember about the appointment - and he couldn't blame her after his major screwup the previous day.

‘Hey Repo! What’s up?’ he said, trying to keep things light. ‘And before you say anything, I didn't forget about the appointment. I’m at the school, picking up Liam.’

‘I know’ Sara said, her voice serious. ‘I just talked to him.’

Neal frowned. What was Liam doing chatting with his mom over the phone when he was supposed to be rushing in to get a book from his locker?

‘Honey, he called me to… well, he’s worried about you’ she began, unsure how to come clean as to the real reason for her call.

‘What are you talking about?’ Neal asked, completely in the dark.

‘Neal, he says you've been drinking and he didn't know if he should get in the car with you.’

‘What?’ Neal shouted; surely he wasn't getting this right.

‘Have you… been drinking?’ she asked sombrely.

Neal struggled with his answer. It was a straight question that couldn't easily be deflected and he was tempted to lie outright - something he'd never done to Sara before booze came into his life.

‘Sara, I’m fine’ he attempted although he knew damn well that would not be enough of an answer for the stubborn insurance investigator.

‘Neal, I mean it. This is much too serious a situation for one of your off the cuff responses. _Have_ you been drinking today?’ she repeated.

Neal shook his head in disbelief. His judgment was being called into question and the uncertainty in his wife’s voice conjured up a bunch of different emotions including embarrassment, shame, humiliation and, well, anger at her lack of confidence in his ability to make wise, thoughtful decisions.

‘Sara!’ he said, his voice angry. ‘Do you really think I would do anything that would put our son’s life in danger?’

Her answer, when she managed to speak, came as a total shock.

‘To tell you the truth, Neal. I feel like I don't know you at all these days’ she stated, her voice sad and broken.

Silence followed as Neal digested what his wife had just said. He supposed, somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind that he deserved her lack of faith in him. He hadn't done much since the accident to prove he was trustworthy and able to think clearly. Despite that realization, his ego and his pride got in the way and he answered curtly.

‘Well, thank you for that’ he stated sarcastically, anger seeping into his voice.

She chose to ignore the curt response. She had to get herself and the two of them to Bronx Lebanon in the next hour and she set aside her discomfort at having had to confront him and instead, she focussed on the task ahead.

‘I’ve called a cab for you and Liam. Neal… please. This is hard on him, too. Just… take the cab and I’ll see you at the hospital’ she stated, leaving no room for discussion.

Neal disconnected the call and glanced up, seeing Liam off in the distance, making his way towards the car, his head hung low as he walked. He grabbed for the flask in his pocket and took a long, steadying gulp.

WCWCWC

Sara stared out the window of the cab she was riding in as it left the streets of Manhattan. She’d cut things a little too close and she’d called ahead to let the hospital know they were running a little late. She couldn't believe this latest twist. What was Neal playing at, taking chances with drinking and driving? He'd always been so adamant about the kids not getting in a car with anyone who'd been drinking - how could he possibly put Liam in such a conflictive situation?

She felt anger building inside her as she thought of her husband’s lack of demonstrated common sense now that alcohol had begun to shroud his judgment. She wanted him back, she _needed_ him back. There was so much to see to with Hope in hospital, the gallery, the school, her job, the upcoming trial, Caitlin and Liam. She felt as though he'd checked out and left her to deal with everything on her own. How had things deteriorated so quickly? Just a few weeks ago, he was strong, dependable Neal and he could be counted on to support her through all the hardships they were facing - together. Now, he was a shadow of his former self, letting alcohol dictate his behaviour as he stumbled through life, unable to take responsibility for himself let alone those around him.

Sara’s mind returned to Hope; she needed to remain their focus. There was some talk of moving her to another part of the hospital in order to concentrate on rehabilitation. Did that mean she had progressed as much as she was going to? The thought of her never communicating with them again was horrendous and she felt her heart tightening at the thought.

Damn you, Neal!

WCWCWC

Father and son sat side by side in uncomfortable silence, in the back seat of a cab headed for the Bronx. Neal had enough sense not to chastise his son for having called his mom. Knowing how sensitive Liam was, he could well imagine that the young man had thought long and hard before raising the issue that was fast becoming the elephant in the room. And besides, Liam had been acting responsibly even when his dad was losing sight of the right thing to do. Most of all, Neal was embarrassed and humiliated to be in such a position; he'd worked hard his whole life to gain his children’s respect and he worried that he had thrown it all away for a cheap bottle of scotch.

His eyes came up to meet Liam’s who was staring straight ahead. ‘I’m sorry, buddy. I’m sorry I put you in a situation where you felt you didn't have a choice but to call Mom.’

Liam looked at his dad, obviously feeling uncomfortable about the circumstance they found themselves in. He loved his dad and he had nothing but the outmost respect for everything he'd accomplished in his life; the last thing he wanted was to hurt his feelings or make him feel anything less than the wonderful father he'd always been.

‘I’m the one who's sorry Dad. I should have talked to _you_ about it… I just didn't know how to… bring it up without upsetting you and… well, you and Mom are always on our case about not getting in the car with someone who's been drinking.’

Neal let out a stifled laugh at the irony of the situation. ‘Well, you were listening, I’ll give you that!’ he said as he jostled his son.

Liam let out a small laugh as the awkwardness between the two of them began to fade.

‘Liam, I’m _not_ drunk’ Neal stated, something he felt important to clarify. ‘And I would never drive if I was drunk. Most importantly, I would never put you or your sister or your mom in any situation where you could be hurt.’

Liam nodded as he listened. He'd seen his dad on a few nights over the past month, properly sloshed, and he knew that this was a bigger problem than what had just transpired.

‘But I _am_ struggling and… I promise I’ll try harder to keep it together for you… and for Hope’ Neal said, his voice fading as he became emotional.

‘I love you Dad’ Liam blurted out.

‘I love you too, son’ Neal echoed as he brought his arm around Liam.

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

The nursing station on the 8th floor of Bronx Lebanon Hospital was buzzing with activity as the afternoon shift change came to an end. By now, the Caffreys were a permanent fixture on the ward and the nurses knew all of the extended family members by sight, if not by name.

‘Hey Liam!’ one of the young nurses called out as he strolled by. ‘I think your sister is looking forward to a little company this afternoon. It’s been a pretty quiet day.’

‘I brought a movie for us to watch’ he said as he held up a DVD. ‘She’s got some weird Ben Affleck obsession that needs feeding every now and then.’

The nurse smiled in response. ‘I totally get _that!_ ’ she said as Liam smirked and continued on his way.

He was finally shaking off the remnants of the awkward encounter he'd had with his dad in the cab on the way over. He'd hated calling him out on his drinking but even _he_ had to admit that Neal appeared to be on some sort of downward spiral that was showing no signs of letting up. He'd been watching from the sidelines as both his mom and his uncle Peter struggled with what to do about getting help for his dad. He was well aware that a grown man couldn't be dragged against his will to treatment but he worried that things might escalate even further before they got any better.

His dad had always been there for him and his sister; he was someone Liam could count on and confide in for just about anything. He'd been amazing when Liam had come out the previous year, supporting him and encouraging him to be true to himself, no matter what. Now, his dad needed _him_ and he wasn't sure what he could do to help. He thought of his grandmother who had openly shared her struggles with alcohol and drugs and he wondered if she might hold the key to getting through to him - it was definitely something to think about.

He arrived in front of Hope’s room, soft music playing in the background, and he watched her for a moment before stepping in. She was sitting up in bed, eyes wide open, seemingly alert, looking just like she always had and yet… she was still trapped inside her body, unable to communicate with those who loved her.

Lately, her eyes had been open a lot more often and she’d begun to follow movements although it was impossible to know if she was truly aware of her surroundings. Sometimes, she laughed or smiled but that was just plain strange, considering the behaviour wasn't related to anything in particular - just random reactions to… he had no idea what.

Liam missed his sister, her off beat sense of humour, the way she delighted in teasing him, her laughter - more of a snort, really - her bright, mischievous eyes, her warm smile. In an odd kind of way, they'd become even closer since she’d moved to Pittsburgh, texting almost daily, sharing little tidbits about their parents’ idiosyncrasies and the events surrounding their daily lives. She’d been the first one he'd come out to - well actually, she’d guessed right around the time he'd begun to figure things out for himself. Even before he'd told his parents, Hope had been supportive and loving and she’d given him advice on how to share the news with their parents.

Now, she was a shell of a human being and yet he knew she was in there somewhere, fighting to get out.

‘Hey Mellon girl’ he called out playfully, somewhat surprised when she turned to look at him.

She watched him intently as he entered the room, her eyes following his movements as he walked over to stand by her bed.

‘Mom and Dad are meeting with your doctors’ he said, the one-sided conversation continuing. ‘But look what I brought’ he added as he held up the DVD with a broad smile and an eyebrow wiggle.

She blinked and a small smile came to her lips. ‘B-b-ben Affleck’ she said, clear as a bell.

WCWCWC

Cameron and Sara had yet to arrive when Neal stepped into the small meeting room they'd been assigned for their latest meeting with Dr. White. As her neurologist, the young man had become Hope’s main doctor, providing regular updates on her condition as well as advice for the family on how to best support her as she continued to linger in hospital.

Neal was still smarting from the painfully humiliating experience he'd just had with his son. He was a grown man after all; surely he could have a drink if he saw fit without having to account for his behaviour to the whole goddamn planet. He brought his hand nervously to his chest, feeling the flask safely tucked away in the breast pocket of his jacket. He'd just made a small detour into the men’s room to take a couple of well deserved swigs and he was beginning to relax a little as the scotch did its thing, entering his blood stream and calming his frayed nerves.

Deep down, he knew Sara and Peter only wanted what was best for him but they didn't _know_ , not really… They didn't know how he literally couldn't sleep if he didn't have a few drinks to help take the edge off. He'd spent weeks struggling with the realization that he was growing dependent before finally giving in to his overwhelming need to literally drown his sorrows before being able to get some shuteye. How else was he supposed to keep up the gruelling pace of his daily life; after all, he needed to get a decent night’s sleep if he was going to be any good to his little girl.

Lately, he'd noticed he needed more of the stuff in order to get the same effect and certainly, the symptoms he'd been having during the day had worried him at first. But it was easy enough to fix with just a couple of good gulps spread out evenly throughout the day - without anyone being the wiser. He carried on, dapper as always, carrying out his daily routine with his flask a comforting and now permanent fixture against his body.

Despite the rationalizations, Neal knew somewhere deep inside that this was anything but normal but he'd been a conman for a long time and what was it Mozzie always said - the worse lies are those a conman tells himself.

‘You made it’ Sara said as she waltzed into the room, looking flustered.

‘Thanks to you… and the nice guy in the yellow cab’ Neal answered sarcastically.

Sara found a seat and looked over at Neal, ostensibly evaluating whether or not he was impaired. ‘Can we _not_ do this here, please?’

‘What? It’s okay for you to humiliate me in front our son but you don't want to discuss it?’ he asked belligerently.

Sara leaned in and despite the minty smell she picked up on his breath, she could smell the faint but regrettably all too familiar odour of scotch, not so subtly disguised.

She glared at him; lately, he was petulant and impulsive and frankly what she needed was a supportive husband and not some cranky, overgrown, teenager testing her at every turn. She shook her head, unwilling to discuss their personal business in an antiseptic meeting room in a hospital when they were about to meet with Hope’s doctor.

Luckily, the door opened and Cam appeared, having just made it over from the gallery where he'd put in a full day’s work.

‘Hi’ he said as he took a seat. ‘No Dr. White yet?’

Sara shook her head and attempted to make small talk while the overgrown toddler to her left continued to pout - strictly for her benefit. By the time the doctor stepped into the room a moment later, Neal had managed to slip into his suave conman skin and he sat up at attention, with a smug smile, ever the responsible, loving father.

‘Thanks for being here’ the doctor began as he spread out the usual papers in front of him - nurses’ anecdotal notes, test results, his own observations of his patient. ‘I have some very encouraging news.’

Cameron was instantly animated; he leaned in, elbows on the table, anxious to hear what the doctor had to say.

‘We’ve upgraded Hope’s status from vegetative state to minimally conscious’ he announced, pure mumbo jumbo as far as his audience was concerned. ‘That’s indicative that Hope is slowly but surely regaining consciousness.’

Cameron sat back, frowning. Although encouraging, this was nowhere near the news he'd been hoping to hear. ‘What does _that_ mean?’ he asked, a question that was also on Neal and Sara’s minds.

‘Well, you may have noticed that Hope is conscious more often lately’ the doctor explained.

‘But you told us not to read too much into it when her eyes are open or when she looks around the room’ Sara said, confused.

‘You’re right and when patients are in a vegetative state, they do open their eyes and stare but the difference is that we’re seeing signs that Hope is aware of her environment and is making attempts at interacting with people around her.’

Cam looked from Neal to Sara; he spent hours with her every day. How could he not have noticed that she was attempting to communicate? He'd taken her grunts and moans as meaningless and random sounds but come to think of it, they often came on the heels of something he'd said or a question he'd asked.

‘First off, we’ve observed that Hope will track movement and her eyes will seek out faces when someone is in the room. We’ve done some tests and she's begun to nod or shake her head in response to some questions we've asked her.’

‘Really?’ Neal exclaimed, momentarily forgetting his insolent mood.

‘And she’s followed simple instructions on a couple of occasions’ Dr. White added.

‘Like what?’ Cameron asked, allowing the excitement to build.

‘Well, she’s squeezed the nurse’s hand as requested earlier today and she was able to point to a bouquet of flowers when we asked her to.’

‘That’s incredible!’ Sara said as she smiled at Neal and instinctively grabbed for his hand and squeezed.

‘It’s definitely encouraging’ Dr. White said. ‘But patients who are in a minimally conscious state will do these things inconsistently.She might be able to follow a simple instruction and in another hour, she won’t be able to do it at all. That’s why it’s often difficult to tell if the person has progressed to this stage. But with Hope, we are confident that she has moved on to a more conscious state and this is very encouraging for her prognosis. With any luck, she will start to say some words on her own or repeat words she hears and she might cry or smile in response to something funny.’

Cameron picked up on a cautious tone in the doctor’s voice. ’When will we know what after effects she might have - once she's fully conscious?’

Dr. White nodded; that was the million dollar question. ‘The swelling in her brain is all but dissipated but she still has a ways to go before we can determine what the long term effects of her brain injury might be’ he answered cautiously.

He watched as the three faces in front of him dropped. He knew how anxious they all were to know what Hope’s level of functioning would be when this was all over.

‘At this point in a patient’s progress, we usually start to discuss moving them to the rehabilitation wing of the hospital’ he said tentatively.

‘What does that mean?’ Neal asked, concerned. ‘Do you think she’s progressed as much as she’s going to?’

‘No, that’s not what it means. But Hope is no longer in need of acute care. She might need surgery down the road to help with the scarring on her face but her broken bones have healed well and she no longer needs the same level of care she needed when we admitted her. Now, we want to start concentrating on evaluating what she’s able to do and start her on some therapies to keep the momentum up. Although some patients remain in a minimally conscious state indefinitely, I have confidence that Hope will become fully conscious and that she’ll retain much of the functioning she had before the accident.’

‘Much?’ Cameron repeated as the words sunk in. ‘But not all.’

‘I won’t sugar coat it, Cameron. With such a traumatic injury, there will be some after effects but whether they'll be related to her memory, her motor skills, her language… well, that’s anybody’s guess at this point’ Dr. White admitted.

‘When would you be moving her?’ Neal asked.

‘I want to continue evaluating her but I would guess probably within the next week’ the doctor said. ‘In the meantime, we want you to keep helping her with her physical therapy on a daily basis and you can keep interacting with her as you always do. I just want to caution you to stay optimistic but not to set your sights too high, It will just frustrate her if she feels she’s not living up to your expectations. We want to see if we can get her eating again and off that feeding tube and hopefully, standing and eventually walking.’

Neal was suddenly overcome with the urge to be with his daughter. He had ditched her in favour of his hangover that morning and he felt the need to make it up to her. He'd been self-involved and impulsive and he owed it to her to rise to the occasion and be the dad she needed him to be.

‘Let’s plan on meeting by the middle of next week and we’ll keep you informed regarding a move to rehab’ Dr. White said as he stood, putting an end to the discussion.

The three occupants of the room stared at each other, a precarious balance of optimism and anxiety written all over their faces.

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

The Caffrey siblings were halfway through ‘Gone Girl’ by the time their parents and Cameron Armstrong stepped into Hope’s hospital room. She had nodded off about ten minutes into the movie although it was becoming increasingly difficult to know if she was floating back into unconsciousness or simply sleeping peacefully. Liam had held her hand throughout, describing what was happening on the screen on the off chance she was just resting her eyes but, to Liam’s chagrin, she hadn't made another sound in the last half hour.

The shuffling sound of footsteps seemed to bring her out of her slumber and her eyes swept the room as she took in the three new arrivals.

‘Hey sweetie!’ Cameron called out as he made his way to sit on the edge of her bed.

He spied the movie which was playing on Liam’s laptop and let out a soft moan. ‘Ben Affleck again! How am I supposed to compete with this guy?’ he complained as a soft smile lit up Hope’s face.

Neal was bursting at the seams to spend a few minutes alone with his daughter; he was feeling terrible for having abandoned her that morning and he needed to tell her how sorry he was for letting her down.

‘Did someone do your physical therapy with you today, honey?’ Neal asked an unresponsive Hope.

That part of the early morning routine belonged to the two of them and truth be told, he enjoyed the moments spent with his daughter as he helped her through the gruelling regimen.

As if on cue, one of the evening nurses appeared in the doorway to Hope’s room. ‘According to your chart, you didn't do your homework today, missy!’ she teased Hope. ‘Why don't we try to get that out of the way before the dinner rush?’

‘I don’t mind doing it’ Neal offered immediately as everyone looked on.

Sara’s eyes went from Neal to the two young men. ’All right, well, why don't I take you boys down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat and let Dad and Hope do their thing’ she suggested as Liam and Cam nodded in agreement.

Within minutes, Neal was left alone with Hope, her eyes carefully tracking his every movement. Despite the urge to reach into his jacket pocket for his flask, the craving immediately vanished when he noticed the level of scrutiny in his daughter’s eyes as she watched him gently remove the blankets covering her legs. He noticed, not for the first time, how pale and sickly her skin was from lack of oxygen and a dearth of fresh air and sunshine. Now that the cast on her left leg had been removed, her leg looked pallid and weak and he began the gruelling routine, as he always did, by gently bending her knees and massaging her hamstrings.

‘I’m sorry about this morning’ Neal said as he worked. ‘I… I lied to the nurse about having a meeting. The truth is…’

He stopped for a moment, staring into her wide open eyes. ‘I had too much to drink last night and I was a mess this morning. I’m sorry, honey… I’m sorry I let you down.’

Hope kept staring ahead, trying as best she could to relax her tight muscles as Neal put her through her paces.

‘After I got shot, your mom used to do this for me and I… I _really_ hated it. It made me feel so helpless… I can only imagine how _you_ must be feeling. But it’s really important to maintain your muscle tone. Before you know it, you'll be standing up and walking around and you need these scrawny little legs of yours to hold you up.’ he said as he grinned mischievously and tickled the bottom of her foot.

Hope let out a soft giggle and for a fraction of a second, they connected, just as they alway had, her eyes meeting his, fully aware of who he was and what he meant to her. Neal felt a lump in his throat and he swallowed the emotion, coughing to cover it up.

‘Do you understand what I’m saying, sweet pea?’ he asked, his voice hopeful.

By the time he'd finished his sentence, the moment had passed and Hope’s gaze had grown distant once again.

‘Hope, I’m… I’m so sorry this happened. I should have watched out for you, I should have kept you safe’ Neal said, unsure whether or not she was hearing his words of contrition.

Try as he might, emotion got the better of him and Neal swatted away a tear as he placed Hope’s legs back under the blankets and tucked her in. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring into her eyes, running his hand lovingly over the scars on the left side of her face and smiling at her through the tears. He placed a kiss on her forehead, his hand running through her hair.

‘I love you so much…’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I’d do anything to turn back the clock and have this all be a bad dream.’

And that’s when he heard it, loud and clear.

‘Daddy’ Hope said as the silence was broken.

WCWCWC

The thirty minute cab ride back to White Plains felt excruciatingly long for young Liam Caffrey. Despite the excitement of having witnessed Hope’s first words, the tension between his parents was at an all-time high as they continued to give each other the cold shoulder. Sara was smarting from the realization that Neal’s drinking had escalated into the daytime hours and he was pissed off at her lack of confidence in him and her holier than thou attitude - considering she had _no_ idea what he was going through.

Liam kept his mind focussed on Hope’s breakthrough. It had been great to hear the sound of her voice - even if the first words out of her mouth _had_ been the name of some random movie star. There was life in there and now, they all needed to double down to help her continue to improve and see how far it took them.

‘How long are you planning to keep this up?’ Sara asked her pouting husband as Liam tried to keep his eyes focussed on the passing traffic.

‘That depends’ Neal responded with all the cockiness he could muster. ‘How long are you planning to treat me like a four year old?’

The answer was obvious yet Sara couldn't help but mutter it, under her breath. ‘Until you stop _acting_ like one.’

Liam let out an audible sigh and both Neal and Sara looked over to see the long-suffering look on his face.

‘Sorry buddy’ Neal was the first to say. ‘You don't need to hear us arguing.’

‘It’s all right’ Liam said magnanimously. ‘I know this isn't easy… for either one of you.’

Neal glared at Sara and gave her his infamous Caffrey eye roll. At least one of them was talking sense.

Sara clammed up; she could wait until they were alone to light into Neal. One thing was for sure, he'd stepped over the line and she couldn't pretend otherwise, not anymore.

WCWCWC

Cam had been on cloud nine upon hearing about the new developments and he was looking forward to spending the evening with his fiancée as he'd done every single night for the past two months. He’d just settled in the chair by her bed with a cup of coffee, prepared to spend a quiet evening by Hope’s side when he noticed her studying the cup in his hand.

Suddenly, her hand reached out to grab the cup as he stared in disbelief.

‘Hope? Hope, what are you doing?’ he asked, pulling his hand away.

Hope’s hand fell listlessly onto her lap and a frown appeared on her face.

‘Coffee’ she moaned as Cam laughed out loud.

‘You want some coffee?’ he asked as her eyes widened in response. ‘Oh my God, you understand me, don't you?’

‘Coffee’ she said once more, seemingly annoyed. She reached out for the cup once again and Cameron moved it out of reach to keep her from taking it from his hand.

‘Sweetie, you have a feeding tube in your stomach, I don't think you can have anything by mouth’ Cam said as he watched and listened in wonder. They hadn't spoken in over two months and now they were arguing about coffee, of all things.

‘Coffee!’ she repeated adamantly, that look of frustration in her eyes Cam recognized from when she wasn't getting her way.

‘Is everything okay in here?’ came a voice from the hallway.

‘She’s… she wants some coffee’ Cam said, not quite believing his own words.

The nurse stepped all the way into the room and made her way to stand by Hope whose gaze moved from Cam to the new arrival.

‘Coffee’ Hope affirmed, frustration growing.

‘I can’t let you have any coffee right now, Hope, but we can talk to Dr. White about removing your feeding tube. You’ll just have to be patient for a little while longer.’

The calming voice seemed to lull her back into unconsciousness and Hope’s gaze dimmed as the elusive connection was broken once again and she remained sitting upright, staring randomly into space.

Cameron’s eyes grew sad as he felt her slip away and the nurse placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

‘Don’t get discouraged. She’s doing great’ she announced before walking away.

WCWCWC

It was past 7:00 by the time they picked up the car and headed back to White Plains. Neal got behind the wheel and stared Sara down, daring her to say something. She’d been glued to his side for the past three hours and unless he'd had the gumption to have a drink while he'd done Hope’s physiotherapy, she was reasonably sure he hadn't had anything to drink. They drove home in silence, Liam, eager to get home so he could call Cody and share his woes with a sympathetic ear. The sun would be going down soon and the cycle would start all over again; his mom inevitably sad and worried as she went up to bed alone, leaving his dad to find solace in the bottom of a bottle of scotch.

Again, he wished Hope was around so they could brainstorm to find a solution. His dad had fallen into this huge black hole and he was becoming increasingly worried that no one, not even his mom, would be able to pull him out.

Caitlin had been visiting Linda at the nursing home and Neal offered to drive out to New Rochelle to pick her up - anything so he could put off the inevitable tongue lashing he was likely to get from his wife.

‘It’s okay, I’ll go. You haven't eaten yet’ Sara offered as she grabbed for the set of car keys.

Whether she didn't trust him to drive or was just offering to go in good faith was up for debate but at this point, Neal couldn't care less. He was looking forward to letting loose and opening that fresh bottle he'd picked up the previous day.

He nodded, his conman smile firmly in place. ‘Thanks’ he said as he watched her leave.

The car still hadn't pulled out of driveway when Neal opened the kitchen cupboard, reaching behind the cleaning products to pull out his new best friend, Mr. Jack Daniels.

WCWCWC

Sara took the onramp to the I95 S as she talked to Peter and Elizabeth Burke on the phone.

‘Peter, we have to do something. I could smell it on his breath at the hospital. I can’t believe he'd take a chance and get behind the wheel when he's been drinking’ Sara said, her voice tinged with sadness.

Peter still hadn't spilled the beans about his visit to the 35th precinct but he was beginning to realize he couldn't keep it from Sara much longer.

‘I found a bottle hidden in the washroom at the gallery’ he admitted as Sara gasped.

‘What else don't we know?’ Sara asked rhetorically. ‘He’s going to hurt someone or kill himself if we don't do something soon. What about one of those interventions like we see on TV? Maybe I could ask Marion Birch to help.’

Unbeknownst to Sara, Peter shrugged on the other end as he glanced at his wife who was busy listening on the other line.

‘We could just sit him down and tell him how this is affecting all of us, how worried we are…’ El volunteered.

‘I don’t know, El. Nothing seems to be getting through to him. It’s like he's on some sort of self-destructive path that won't end until something horrible happens’ Sara said as she attempted a lane change in early evening traffic.

‘I think we just need to put our heads together…’ Peter said, hesitating before he went on. ‘Also, there’s… stuff I need to tell you.’

‘What kind of stuff?’ Sara asked, even more worried than before.

‘Look, why don't you, Liam, Caitlin and Cam come over this weekend while he's teaching his art class and we can strategize’ Peter suggested.

There was silence on the other end as Sara came to terms with what was going on. This was Neal, the man she loved, they were all plotting against. In some ways, it seemed wrong to go behind his back and yet, she was terrified something horrible might happen if they didn't intervene soon

‘Sara?’ El said. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yeah, I’m here.’

‘Honey, it’s okay. We all want the same thing. We all want Neal to get better’ Elizabeth said in encouragement.

Sara frowned and held back a sob as she prepared to hang up.

‘Thanks you two… I don't know what I’d do without you.’

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

The two women stared out the large bay window which overlooked the outdoor playground at the Blue Skies Retirement home. It was almost 8:00 and the sun was going down; it was time to take the few remaining children into the day care for the night. They watched with interest as Caitlin crouched down and helped a little guy blow his nose into the tissue she’d pulled out of her pocket. She was a natural. The child put out his arms and Caitlin scooped him up and held him against her as the teacher finished corralling the rest of the small group.

‘I didn’t realize they had twenty-four hour care here’ Sara said as she smiled at her mother-in-law.

‘It’s a workplace day care and it caters to the staff who work the night shift’ Linda explained. ‘I love it when the children are outside, we can watch them play. They’re so full of life and so carefree…’

The large room they were seated in doubled as an activity room for the residents and any time the children played outside, seniors could be seen lined up in their wheelchairs by the window, enjoying the view. The retirement home staff knew all too well that having children and seniors in the same environment was therapeutic for both the kids and the residents and for some of the seniors, watching the children run around and play was the highlight of their day.

‘Caitlin really connects with the little ones’ Linda added. ‘She’s doing great!’

Sara nodded. ‘Thanks to you…’ she said softly. ‘Neal and I have noticed a big change in her since you moved to New York.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that’ Linda answered modestly. ‘I just do my best to listen to her. I think she’s just a lost soul who’s looking for her place in the world, just like everybody else.’

‘Well, we appreciate everything you’ve done to help her focus. You know, ever since the disastrous night of her birthday party, I can’t think of a single thing I’ve had to reprimand her for…’

Linda manoeuvred her wheelchair and turned to face her daughter-in-law. From the moment she’d walked in, the elderly woman could see Sara was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Linda’s hand reached out to touch hers and their eyes met.

‘For someone who’s had such exciting news today, you look pretty sad, my dear’ she said.

Sara shook her head and looked away. She didn't want to burden her mother-in-law but she couldn't help sharing what was on her mind.

‘I’m so worried… about Neal’ she admitted, her voice quiet.

‘His drinking?’ Linda asked, as if there was any doubt.

‘It’s gotten worse and… today, he got behind the wheel and he'd been drinking’ Sara said, her eyes wandering up to meet her mother-in-law’s worried gaze. ‘Linda, I don't even know who he is anymore…’

‘Sara, he’s the same wonderful man he’s always been. He’s just in a lot of pain.’

‘But Neal never abused alcohol before. Why now?’ Sara asked, her voice tortured.

‘Neal’s _always_ been impulsive. You know better than anybody else how obsessed he was with the life before he met you. The con is a rush and once it gets its hooks in you…’ she reminded Sara.

‘This is just another kind of addiction… I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I’m afraid my son might have inherited my predisposition for addictive behaviour. He’s just using alcohol to dull the pain and if he’s not careful, it won’t be long before he develops a dependence. Believe me, I could teach a master class in drug and alcohol dependence.’

‘What’s the difference? I mean… between abuse and dependence?’ Sara asked.

‘Well, from what you tell me, Neal’s been abusing alcohol to escape the guilt he’s been feeling since Hope’s accident. It probably started as a way to dull the memories of that night; that’s how it started with me. Alcohol is just one of the ways to escape a painful reality but after a while, your body starts to crave it and it becomes a dependence, something you can’t pull away from, even if you try.’

‘You think Neal is an alcoholic?’ Sara asked, horrified.

‘I don’t know dear, I’m just saying that we need to try to get him to stop before he can’t’ Linda stated unequivocally. ‘Because the time will come when he won’t be able to, even if he wants to.’

Sara stared off into space. She could certainly put up with Neal’s behaviour in the short term. Hell, who was she to judge; she’d been using sleeping pills in order to quell her overactive mind and get some rest. She could certainly understand how difficult it was to shut off your brain when it kept going around in circles. But she’d managed to cut down to half her dosage and Neal… well, Neal was continuing down the rabbit hole with no end in sight.

‘We’re thinking of staging an intervention’ Sara admitted. ‘He needs to realize how his behaviour is affecting everyone.’

Linda nodded. She’d been on the receiving end of a couple of those over the years and although she’d been willing to give rehab a try, it had taken a few visits to detox before she had finally found the strength and determination to stand up to her demons.

‘What made the difference for you in the end?’ Sara asked her mother-in-law.

‘To be honest, I’m not sure. I guess at some point, I started to realize that this road I was on wasn't leading me anywhere… well, nowhere I wanted to go, anyway. I had hopes of reconnecting with Neal but I knew that could never happen as long as I didn't get my act together. That helped… plus, a lot of support, making sure I wasn't putting myself in precarious situations… you know, the usual. I was lucky, some people are never able to climb out of the hole they’ve dug themselves into.’

‘What if Neal…’ Sara began as her face grew sad. ‘…never gets it together? I don't know if I want to share my life with someone who’s fixated on where his next drink is coming from.’

Linda’s hand came up to touch Sara’s face. ‘Don’t give up on him. Maybe, I can help; although the last time I brought it up, he shut me down pretty quickly.’

Sara’s face grew dark. She missed her husband, his strength, his warmth, his laughter, his kindness. Watching him self-destruct and not being able to do anything to stop him was pure torture. 

‘He’s in there, Sara. You can’t give up on him, you have to keep trying to find ways to connect with him’ the kindly old woman said.

WCWCWC

‘So, how was it?’ Sara asked as she got back on the highway.

Caitlin had been quiet and Sara guessed she was still processing what had happened with her mom. The teen shrugged and Sara took her eyes off the road momentarily to get a look at her face.

‘I don’t know… I want to believe she’s changed but… well, I’ve gotten my hopes up before and she’s always let me down’ she said. ‘Grandma says addiction is a bitch…’

Sara frowned at her foster daughter’s use of language but she let it slide; she somehow doubted Linda Bennett had used that _exact_ expression.

‘She says it took her a long time to finally free herself from the clutches of booze and drugs and that I shouldn't give up on my mom.’

‘That doesn't mean you have to put up with inappropriate behaviour’ Sara said, thinking about her own struggle with Neal. ‘Your mom has to know that you might not want her in your life if she continues to abuse alcohol and drugs.’

‘Well, it’s not like I’m ever going to live with her again’ Caitlin mused. ‘I’m sixteen and… well, I hope I can stay with you until I finish school. That’s if I don't do anything to mess things up.’

Sara smiled gently and reached out to touch her foster daughter’s hand. ‘Of course you can stay, sweetie. Neal and I will always be there for you.’

‘How come you put up with me?’ Caitlin asked, seemingly out of the blue. ‘I mean, I know it was Mr. C’s idea for me to come and live with you but I always wondered why you agreed to it. I didn't even think you liked me when I first moved in.’

‘That’s not true, I’ve always like you. I just didn't know you very well back then, that’s all. But I trusted Neal and I knew that if he saw something good in you, then I just had to take a leap of faith’ Sara said. ‘I just happen to know that Neal has a very big heart and I didn't want him to get hurt. It was never about not liking you. As a matter of fact, I like you very much and I really appreciate all the efforts you’ve been making since Hope’s accident. It means a lot to me.’

‘Well, Grandma said you had enough on your plate without me acting up so…’

‘You really like Linda, huh?’

‘I… I love her’ the teen admitted sheepishly. ‘I never had a grandmother growing up and… well, she gets me.’

Sara smiled and glanced out the window as they arrived in White Plains. ‘Ice cream?’ she suggested as she spotted their local Dairy Queen in the distance.

‘Hell, yeah’ said the teen.

WCWCWC

Neal sat in front of the television, licking his wounds. His pride had taken a beating and his overblown ego was standing in the way of a frank and open discussion with Sara about the events of the afternoon. His mind was slowly beginning to shut down, thanks to the five drinks he’d already had so a calm, productive talk with his wife was not likely to happen in the next little while if he continued down this road - which he fully intended to do.

Luckily, Liam was up in his room. Neal didn't want to be throwing them back when his son was sitting there, watching him. He couldn't quite grasp what all the fuss was about; he was totally in control of his drinking and he could stop anytime - if he wanted to.

Nevertheless, it _had_ been upsetting to see Liam’s reaction. Neal strived to be a good role model for his son and now he worried he might have come down a notch in Liam’s eyes. He shook off the disquieting notion and gulped down the rest of his drink, grabbing for the bottle which he’d tucked away, out of sight, next to the couch. He was starting to get to that place… that wonderful, predictably fuzzy place he needed to get to in order to finally drift off and get a good night’s sleep.

Hearing Hope say his name had been amazing. She was in there, somewhere, and they would find a way to bring her back. He brought his legs up on the couch, shooing the dog away and he let his head fall listlessly on the back of the couch. It was hard to keep a rational, coherent train of thought going when he was on the verge of reaching that tipping point, that magic moment when he could finally drift off and sleep blissfully.

With effort, he focussed his eyes on the nearby clock. It was already 10:30 and Sara and Caitlin weren't home yet. They’d probably caved in and stopped for ice cream on the way home. He tried to put on a sober face - more sober than he was, anyway - for Caitlin’s benefit. He didn't like the idea of her seeing him drunk although it seemed to be a little too late for that. He was well on his way and he wasn't turning back now. Screw Caitlin, he thought dismissively, she would just have to deal. His rambling and incoherent thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and laughter wafting through the house. He sat up, trying to take the impaired smirk off his face, not that he could fool either one of them, even if he tried.

‘Hey!’ he called out as he hid his glass by his feet. ‘How’d it go?’

He wasn't sure what ‘it’ was - the day? the evening? her volunteer work? the visit with Linda? but it sounded like something a sober person might say in greeting.

The two women appeared and Caitlin turned to Sara and gave her a kiss. ‘Well, I’m going to bed’ she declared as she gave Neal a small wave. ‘Goodnight!’

‘Night’ Neal slurred, thinking better than to try to stand up without appearing unsteady - which would be near impossible at this point in the proceedings.

He gave Sara a crooked smile, trying to gauge her mood. He had no idea if she was still pissed off at him. Regardless, she probably knew better than to lash out at him when he was already half in the bag.

‘So?’ he said with a playful smirk that came across as pathetic. ‘How’zzz everything?’

She walked over to where he sat and took a seat next to him, studying his face and spotting the glass by his feet - as if there was any doubt as to what he’d been doing before they arrived.

‘I’m good’ Sara said with a sad smile. ‘You?’

‘Couldn’t be better…’ he slurred.

‘Time for bed?’ she asked.

‘In a minute…’ he answered, code for _in another couple of drinks._

‘Why don’t you give your back a break and come to bed tonight?’ she asked with a patient smile.

Neal seemed to hesitate and she leaned over and grabbed his glass, handing it to him. ‘You need one more?’ she asked sadly. ‘I can wait.’

Neal stared at her with a look of confusion; there was no begging, no cajoling, no nagging. Here she was, handing him his glass as if she were sanctioning his over imbibing, which he knew all too well was _not_ the case.

Although self conscious, Neal reached over to where he’d hidden the bottle and poured himself a double as Sara watched with interest. He was going to do it anyway; at least this way, she might be able to get him up to the bedroom so he could sleep in his own bed.

‘Can I pour you one?’ he asked, his voice muddled.

‘I’ll pass’ she said as she watched him down the large drink in one giant gulp.

He let out a satisfied sigh, smacking his lips disgustingly and he attempted to stand, wavering as she grabbed on to his arm in order to steady him.

‘Whoaaa!’ Neal said giddily as he held on. ‘Maybe that was one too many.’

‘Come on, honey. Let’s go to bed’ Sara said as she led him towards the stairs.

Neal moaned as he held her arm, his gait unsteady. ‘Let’s go to bed’ he repeated, his voice slurred.

She would _not_ give up on him. For tonight, that meant doing what she could to help him get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, they would find a way to help him in a more productive way.

TBC


	33. Chapter 33

Sara Ellis sat in the small waiting room, drumming her perfectly manicured fingernails nervously against the arm of her chair. She was feeling like a class A traitor, considering what she was about to do.

After Neal had drifted off, which had been practically the moment his head hit the pillow, she had pulled out her laptop and typed in the word ‘intervention’, skipping over the many websites about the well-known television show and straight to the Wikipedia page on the subject. The more she read, the more she became convinced that her husband would do very poorly if he was ambushed by all the people he loved and trusted - and yet, this couldn't go on much longer.

Trust had always been a major issue in Neal Caffrey’s life - or more to the point, ‘lack’ of trust. As a child, he’d been betrayed by the most important people in his life, his parents. First, his dad who'd abandoned him at the tender age of three and then his mom who, despite being physically present until he'd turned eighteen, had been emotionally distant and unavailable for almost forty years. 

As a young man, he had preyed on others’ trust to carry out innumerable cons, reeling in unsuspecting marks and taking advantage of their blind faith in him to bilk them out of money, jewels and whatever else he could get his hands on. Back then, he had only trusted two people:Kate and Mozzie. His love for Kate had blinded him to her many faults and he never knew for sure if she’d been trustworthy in the end but Mozzie… well, he was someone Neal could depend on to have his back despite the many secrets they'd kept from each other over the years. Their forty year friendship was solid and Neal knew without a doubt, he could count on Mozzie to be there for him when it counted the most.

After his stint in prison, it had taken the ex-conman years to build trust with his now best friend and partner Peter Burke to say nothing of his relationship with his wife. Now that unwavering trust was firmly rooted in his closest relationships, it seemed unthinkable to break that bond by setting a trap for him and watching him squirm as all those around him pointed out his shortcomings.

By the time Marion Birch peeked into the waiting room and invited Sara into her office, Ms Ellis was feeling like Benedict Arnold and she nervously took a seat in her usual chair across from the therapist and waited a few moments before speaking.

‘I want to stage an intervention’ she blurted out without preliminaries.

Marion looked up from her notepad, eyes wide yet perfectly composed as she always was. ‘Is this about Neal’s drinking?’ she asked as Sara nodded adamantly.

‘So things haven't gotten any better?’

‘No, they've gotten worse’ Sara said, visibly upset. ‘Yesterday, Neal went to pick up our son at school and he'd been drinking.’

Marion listened intently as Sara spoke, feeling the nervous energy radiating off the insurance investigator.

‘Marion, he’s in total denial. He says he's in control of his drinking but he's not… he’s _out_ of control and I’m terrified he's going to hurt himself or someone else if we don't confront him about it.’

Marion nodded as she jotted something down. ‘How do you think Neal would react if he was ambushed by a whole bunch of people?’

‘Not well…’ Sara admitted. ‘But I was reading online and there are different kinds of interventions, right? It doesn't have to be like that TV show.’

‘You’re right, there are situations where it’s more beneficial for the individual to be taken by surprise but it doesn't _have_ to be that way. Sometimes, the person will come of their own accord - if they have enough motivation to do so, that is.’

‘Is this something you can help us with?’ asked Sara, suddenly on the edge of her seat.

‘Sure, I can be involved in helping you prepare’ Marion said, her voice calm.

‘Prepare?’ Sara repeated.

‘Well, this isn't something you just pull together in a day’ Marion explained. ‘It takes planning and everyone has to be on board and ready to stand united, otherwise the person will play one family member over an other in order to maintain the status quo.’

Sara looked puzzled, frowning as she heard Marion’s explanation. She just wanted this dealt with as soon as possible.

‘So, how do I deal with things in the meantime? And how do we get Neal to agree to come?’

‘One thing at a time. Who would you like involved in confronting Neal, keeping in mind that these are people Neal cares about and who are suffering from his drinking.’Sara thought for a moment before speaking. ‘Our best friends, Peter and Elizabeth Burke and Liam and Caitlin and Ho…’ she began before she caught herself.

Marion watched as Sara’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Neal would do anything Hope asked him to do, wouldn't he?’ she said sadly.

The room grew quiet while Sara collected herself. ‘Then, there’s Cameron and…’ Sara hesitated before continuing. ‘…there’s Neal’s oldest friend, Mozzie but…’

‘Neal’s mentioned him before; that’s his friend who used to be his… partner?’ Marion asked, unsure of Neal and Mozzie’s relationship.

‘Mozzie has a special relationship with wine’ Sara admitted. ‘I’m not sure he'd be helpful in this situation.’

‘Well, he might be just what Neal needs, depending on how he perceives his own dependence on alcohol. We could certainly have a chat with him’ Marion said.

Sara thought of the subterfuge, of keeping things from Neal while they were planning to ambush him. She wasn't sure how she would pull it off and yet, it had come to this and there was no turning back.

‘How do I keep this from him while we’re figuring things out?’ Sara asked, wringing her hands.

Marion smiled at her patient. ‘For the time being, until we figure out what you want to do and how you want to do it, think of it as a surprise birthday party you’re planning for Neal. Once we have a plan, you’ll have a focus and you’ll feel much better.’

‘So, how do we start?’ Sara asked.

‘Why don't you see about getting people together sometime this weekend and I’ll make it a point of being there to help navigate. In the meantime, just keep an eye on Neal, make sure he's not making any dangerous decisions like drinking and driving and try to cut him some slack’ the therapist said.

She could sense Sara’s uncertainty. ‘From what you’re telling me, Neal is teetering on the edge of becoming physically addicted to alcohol and _that_ is not a choice, it’s a disease… We’ll have to see if he needs an intensive program or if a commitment to something like AA will be enough. One thing’s for sure, the sooner we intervene, the better the outcome for Neal.’

Sara nodded. She felt butterflies in her stomach and yet, she felt strangely relieved.

WCWCWC

Neal watched as Hope slept. She’d done her workout with more enthusiasm than he'd ever seen and the nurse had helped him sit her up on the edge of her bed, letting her legs dangle, something she hadn't done in over two months. She’d beamed as she sat there wiggling her toes, realizing what a feat it was and balking when she was encouraged to lie down after a few seconds.

‘Baby steps’ the nurse had said before tucking her back in for a well deserved nap.

Neal grabbed for his coffee and for the New York Times as he began to peruse the arts and entertainment section - his daily fix of what was going on in the world of art. There was a new gallery opening up on 29th and Neal thought he might check it out and see what they were all about. After all, it was important to know your competition.

Hope’s voice was heard as she mumbled in her sleep - something to do with Cameron hogging all the blankets - and Neal felt a smile on his lips at the sweet sound of her voice. The doctors had confirmed that Hope was conscious for increasingly longer periods of time and that she was more and more aware of her environment. Now, came the scary part - figuring out what, if any, limitations Hope might have going forward. Cognitively, she seemed to have escaped unscathed and although her memory appeared to be intact, her receptive and expressive language skills were still a mystery and would remain that way until she was fully conscious and able to show the doctors what she could do.

Hope had undergone a swallow study with a speech and language pathologist and she was now able to take some thick liquids by mouth, another important milestone in her rehabilitation. She’d smiled with abandon when she’d taken that first spoonful of apple sauce and the doctors had slowly begun to reduce the amount of food she was being fed by tube as her hunger increased and she was able to swallow more and more nutrients. It was a question of days now before they finally took out the annoying feeding tube that still protruded from her stomach and Neal couldn’t wait for Hope to start enjoying food again.

‘Daddy?’ came her soft voice as Neal pulled his eyes away from his newspaper.

He stood from his chair and moved to the edge of the bed, eyes riveted on her frowning face.

‘Hi sweet pea’ he said with a smile as he ran his hand through her hair. ‘You were dreaming.’

‘Daddy…’ she repeated.

‘What is it sweetheart? Do you need anything?’ Neal asked.

She shook her head and kept staring at him as if she had something important she needed to say to him but didn't have the means to express herself. Her hand came up to touch his face and she watched his eyes crinkle and those fine lines appear around his eyes as he smiled back at her.

‘Honey, what is it?’ he repeated.

‘Daddy… l-l-love’ she said with a struggle.

Neal felt his heart leap out of his chest at the sound of her voice and the sentiment she was expressing.

‘I love you too, sweetie. I love you _so_ much’ Neal managed to say as her eyes drifted shut once again.

WCWCWC

‘I can’t believe we’re really doing this’ Sara said from her desk at Sterling Bosch.

‘Do you see any other choice?’ Elizabeth answered.

‘I don’t know, El. Trust is such a big issue for Neal. I can’t see him reacting well if we all confront him. He’ll just shut down and we won’t get anywhere’ came Sara’s worried voice.

‘Do you trust your therapist?’ El asked.

‘One hundred percent. And she knows Neal but…’

‘Then stop second guessing yourself. She’ll walk us through this and she’ll give us advice on the best way to do it.’

Elizabeth listened to the silence on the phone line. ‘Sara, do really you want to keep going like this? With Neal in a drunken stupor every night and God knows what else?’

‘Thank you, thank you for that!’ Sara responded sarcastically - as if she wasn't worried enough every single time Neal left the house to go somewhere.

‘I don’t want to hurt him…’ she added, guilt rearing its ugly head.

‘Honey, he’s going to hurt himself or someone else if he keeps going like this…’

‘Again, not helping, El’ Sara said, rolling her eyes. ‘So, you don't mind doing it at your place?’

‘No problem. So, Saturday morning at 10:00?Are you inviting Mozzie?’

Sara thought for a moment; she still didn't know what to do about Neal’s oldest friend.

‘I don’t know yet. I’m meeting him for lunch to discuss it. I’ll let you know’ she answered.

‘Good luck’ came the answer.

WCWCWC

The small café up the street from Sterling Bosch had been the meeting place of choice for Mozzie and Sara over the years. They’d met there on countless occasions as Mozzie snitched on the numerous fences on his black list, it was there they’d planned Neal’s surprise fiftieth birthday party and where, on that hot day in August, almost twenty years before, Sara had handed over a stack of farewell letters for safekeeping as she’d prepared for her cancer surgery. They always sat at the same table - in deference to Mozzie’s excessive paranoia. It was the one secreted away in the back with a great view of all the comings and goings but tucked safely against the back wall where no one could sneak up behind them.

Sara watched as Mozzie ambled in, looking a lot older these days. Hell, they were _all_ getting older and Mozzie was pretty well living off the profits of his past misdeeds these days and certainly not off any new, elaborate high stake cons. He was satisfied with tossing the ladies on his usual corner in Manhattan whenever he got nostalgic or revelling in hearing tall tales from his cronies when he settled in for a drink at the pub near his safe house in Brooklyn.

Sara could see him furtively checking the place out, making sure there were no untoward strangers lurking around who might cause him any trouble - for all the unsavoury individuals on his black list, it was certain that Teddy Winters’ name appeared on just as many across all five boroughs of New York City and beyond.

‘Hey’ he called out as he sat against the wall, his eyes still scanning the other patrons.

‘I got you a chai latte’ Sara announced as the older man grinned.

‘So, what’s this all about that we couldn't discuss it when I was over the other night?’ he asked as he took a tentative sip and smiled in appreciation.

‘It’s about Neal’ she murmured, not wanting to talk took loudly.

‘You mean it’s about Neal’s newfound appreciation for fine scotch’ Mozzie corrected as Sara glared at him. ‘I was wondering when you were going to get around to talking to me about it. Liam already filled me in on what happened yesterday. He's really worried about what’s going on but he doesn't want to upset you.’

Sara took a sip of tea and studied the man sitting across from her. He was such an enigma. Even after all these years, she still couldn't completely figure the guy out, not that she hadn't tried. He spent countless hours at their home, was her son’s godfather, her husband’s oldest friend and yet, he remained a mystery in so many ways. If Neal Caffrey had trust issues, Theodore Winters had them tenfold. His childhood had been spent in the foster care system had made him suspicious of pretty well everyone he met and it took a long time before Mozzie dared to show anyone even a small glimpse of who he really was.

‘It’s bad, Moz. He’s started drinking during the day but I guess Liam told you all about it. I’m worried about him getting hurt.’

Mozzie listened carefully. Although at any given time, day or night, he always had a steady level of alcohol in his system, Sara had to admit she’d never seen the man drunk or acting inappropriately - well, inappropriately because of his drinking, anyway. Neal had often confided in his wife that he worried about Mozzie’s wine consumption but the man had never put himself or anyone else in any danger and over the years, it had become one of those ‘things’ about Mozzie that everyone tolerated and no one ever talked about.

‘I had no idea it was this bad’ Mozzie admitted. ‘But then again, this is Neal and he’s the best conman I’ve ever met so I guess it’s not surprising I didn't pick up the signs any sooner.’

‘Sooner?’ Sara repeated.

Mozzie looked thoughtful as he prepared to rat out his best friend. ’He was over the other day and I could see he’d been drinking. You know, he carries a flask around with him all the time now.’

‘What?’ Sara said, alarmed. ‘I didn't know that…’

‘Maybe it’s time we all compare notes and see what we can come up with’ Mozzie said, suddenly pensive. ‘I guess this is one of those times I’m going to have to hold my nose and snitch on my best friend…’

‘That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re meeting at Peter and Elizabeth’s place on Saturday. Can you come?’

‘If you think I can help’ Mozzie said. ‘You know, I’ll be the first to admit… I’m not much of a role model… I don't exactly have a very clean record when it comes to wine.’

Sara smiled and reached out to touch his hand. ‘Moz…The only ‘record’ you need is your loyalty to Neal’ she said, touching his hand. ‘And from where I stand, that record is flawless.’

TBC 


	34. Chapter 34

Thursday evening dinner was unusually quiet in the Caffrey household as everyone mulled over their individual problems. Caitlin was still working out the next steps in reuniting with her mom, Sara was feeling guilty about what she was about to do to her husband and Liam was feeling bad for having ratted out his dad to his uncle Mozzie.

Neal seemed oblivious to the sombre mood as he tucked into the meatloaf he’d prepared and sipped on his second glass of red - not that anyone was counting. The month of June was right around the corner and that meant it was Liam’s birthday - his 15th - and Sara was hoping that, despite everything that was going on in their busy lives and her recent blowup with Neal, they could still find a way to pull together as a family and celebrate the happy occasion. 

‘And you’re sure it’s okay with the hospital?’ she asked her son.

‘Yeah, Holly even checked with the head nurse. She said as long as we keep it low key, we can have a little party in Hope’s room - nothing too over the top but… Mom, I really want to be with Hope for my birthday.’

Sara smiled at her son. It wasn't surprising that he would choose to downplay his special day so they could all be together to celebrate.

‘All right, well… I suppose we could just hang out for a little while in her room and have a little get-together. I’ll invite Peter and Elizabeth… and Cam’ she said.

‘And I’ll see if Cody wants to come along’ Liam added with a telltale smile.

‘How about I pick up a cake’ Neal offered as he sipped his wine. ‘Make it a _real_ birthday party.’

Sara seemed hesitant. ‘Are you sure, honey? Aren’t you in the middle of your big budget preparation at the school?’

‘Yeah…’ Neal said with a shrug. ‘But I can find time to swing by and pick up a cake. What do you want, buddy? Red velvet?’

Liam’s eyes lit up at the suggestion; it was his favourite cake and he didn't get to indulge very often considering he always had to keep an eye on his sugar levels.

‘Done!’ Neal declared with gusto. ‘So, what time should we all meet up?’

Liam looked from his mom to his dad. ‘Cody and I were going to go to a movie at 8:00.’

‘Then, why don't we do it around 5:00? Hope’s always at her best after she’s had her afternoon nap’ Sara pointed out as everyone nodded in agreement.

Things might be a giant mess in the Caffrey family but the least they could do was to try to give Liam a decent birthday celebration.

WCWCWC

Neal rubbed his face as he tried to focus on the numbers he’d just punched into the calculator. He'd already added up the numbers three times and had gotten just as many different answers.He pulled out the bottle of scotch he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk and refilled the glass he'd been sipping out of for the past couple of hours. Everything was getting fuzzy around the edges and he was becoming increasingly aware that he'd overdone it on the refreshments. Moreover, it didn't look like he’d be able to finish up the number crunching anytime soon. There was a quiet knock on the door to his office and Cindy Harrington popped her head in just as Neal managed to camouflage his half full glass behind a pile of papers.

‘I’m headed out’ she declared as she took in the look of bemusement on his face. ‘Are you okay, Neal? You look a little flustered.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine’ he muttered, noticing he was having trouble articulating and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. ‘It’s just… the budget gets more complicated every year.’

‘Well, don't work too late’ she said as she waved and closed the door behind her.

‘Don’t work too late?’ Neal repeated under his breath as he glanced at his watch, wondering what time it was.

‘Damn it!’ he shouted as he grabbed onto the edge of his desk and pulled himself to his feet rather unsteadily.

He’d completely forgotten about the impromptu birthday party they’d agreed to have at the hospital and now, he had less than half an hour to make it there _and_ pick up a cake on the way. He held on to his desk in order to steady himself, realizing he was a lot more buzzed than he’d first realized. He was going to have to cab it over and that might take even longer. 

He pulled out his phone and forced his eyes to focus as he prepared to text his wife.

_‘Got caught up at work. On my way’_ he typed as he grabbed for the newly filled glass and drained it.

He made it halfway to the door before turning back and, grabbing the bottle from his desk, he proceeded to top up his flask to the rim before heading out the door.

WCWCWC

‘What’s wrong?’ El asked as they all sat around Hope’s hospital room, waiting for the party to begin.

‘Nothing. It’s just… Neal’s running late’ Sara said as Liam glanced nervously at his mom.

These days, it seemed they were always on pins and needles, expecting the worst when it came to Neal who could no longer be counted on to be the reliable, punctual man he'd always been.

Cameron sat up on the edge of the bed, his arm around Hope.

‘Your dad’s bringing a cake’ he announced as she grunted and smiled in response.

‘I don’t know if you can have a taste, sweetie. I can go ask the nurse’ he answered as he gave her a kiss on the forehead and stood, heading for the nurses’ station. ‘I’ll be right back.’

Liam turned to face his mom. ’Do you think… Dad’s okay?’ he asked nervously.

Sara ran her hand through his hair and smiled. ‘I’m sure he’s fine, honey. He probably just got caught up with work and didn't notice the time.’

She re-read Neal’s text, searching for some clue as to her husband’s state of mind. Hopefully, his tardiness wasn't due to anything other than the simple explanation she’d just given her son. 

El watched as Peter moved over to sit on the edge of the bed and took Hope’s hand in his. He was thrilled to have her back and he couldn't get enough of hearing her talk - although the one word questions and answers she had begun to utter were far from the musings of the articulate young woman they’d known over the years. 

‘Come on, Hope. For me… say it again’ he pleaded as everyone stopped what they were doing and watched with interest.

Hope smiled and closed her eyes for a moment, seemingly working hard to summon up the energy and the concentration needed to talk. ‘…cle P-P-Peter’ she said as she exhaled.

Peter Burke’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. ’I never get tired of hearing it’ he exclaimed fondly as he squeezed her hand.

Hope glanced over at her baby brother and rolled her eyes.

‘She’s not some puppet, Uncle Peter’ Liam said as Cody giggled by his side. ‘Are you, Mellon girl?’

Hope frowned. She was growing more and more frustrated at the level of effort required to utter every single word and she stuck her tongue out playfully at her brother as she forced the word out:

’S-s-s-squ-irt!’ she teased as everyone relaxed and laughed.

Hope was talking more and more - usually one or two words at a time - but it was painfully difficult for those who loved her to watch her struggle as she communicated the most simple requests or thoughts. It was becoming obvious that she was going to need speech therapy in order to recover her language skills. Although no formal diagnosis had been arrived at, tests were indicating there was still minimal swelling in the left hemisphere of Hope’s brain - the area which controlled receptive and expressive language.The jury was still out on her motor skills but thankfully, her memory and cognitive abilities appeared to have survived her terrible ordeal relatively unscathed.

She was scheduled to move to the rehab centre by the middle of the following week although Neal and Sara had begun to lobby the doctors to let her come home. There was still some work to do on her physical rehabilitation and until the swelling in her brain had completely dissipated, Dr. White wanted to keep her in hospital where her progress could be monitored more closely.

Despite the challenges that lay ahead, Sara reflected on how wonderful it was to see her smiling face and have her rejoin the family. Now, if they could only band together to help Neal deal with his demons, all would be right with the world.

WCWCWC

It was going on six o’clock when a commotion was heard in the hallway right outside Hope’s room. All eyes turned towards the door just as Neal barrelled in unsteadily with a large white box teetering precariously in his hands.

‘Hey’ he shouted as he made his entrance. ‘Where’s the party?’

It became immediately obvious to everyone in attendance that Neal was drunk - not mildly tipsy, not slightly buzzed but roaring, stinking drunk. Sara gasped as she caught a glimpse of her husband, stumbling into the hospital room, trying to look as if he was in total control of his faculties - which he most certainly was not.

‘There’s the birthday boy!’ he announced as he made his way to Liam and forcibly grabbed him by the neck and hugged him, oblivious to his son’s almost palpable discomfort.

‘What’s going on?’ Neal said, his voice slurred as he noticed all the stunned faces. ‘Why the long faces? This is supposed to be a party!’

‘And I’ve got your faaaavourite cake’ he sang, ‘…right here.’

Sara exchanged worried glances with Peter. He could see she was crushed to have everyone witness Neal in this state - especially the kids, whom she worked so hard to shield from his nightly drunken stupors. Caitlin, Liam and Cody watched in stunned silence, not sure how to react to the scene, yet bewildered and embarrassed by such behaviour from the man they all respected and admired. Cameron glanced at Hope, seeing the distress in her eyes; neither one of them had had the dubious pleasure of seeing Neal behaving so wantonly and Cam brought his arm around Hope’s shoulder protectively as Neal continued to stagger around the room, brandishing the bakery box in his hands and gesticulating wildly.

‘Let’s have a look at this baby’ Neal thundered as he moved in to where the group was gathered around Hope’s bed.

He prepared to place his purchase on the utility table in order to reveal the amazing cake he'd picked up on his way over but his usual grace and agility were nowhere to be found. He moved clumsily, losing his footing and everyone stared in stunned silence as the box, which had been teetering in his grasp, suddenly left his unsteady hands and flew onto Hope’s hospital bed, the cake tumbling out and landing upside down on top of the crisp white sheets.

Peter and Sara moved quickly, Sara to minimize the damage to the cake - and the sheets - and Peter to grab for Neal’s arm in order to pull him away and keep him from making an even bigger mess of things, both literally and figuratively.

‘Whaaaat?’ Neal giggled nervously, trying to make light of his clumsiness. ‘It’s just a little accident…’ he said as he attempted to help Sara clean up the mess.

The combination of Sara’s icy glare and the sensation of Peter’s hand grabbing his arm seemed to snap Neal out of his stupor and he took an unsteady step back, staggering as he glanced at the faces around the room, staring at him with what he deemed to be a look of utter astonishment and disappointment.

His gaze landed on Hope and the sheer look of dismay in her eyes had an immediate and sobering effect as he froze, his eyes riveted on her face. Time seemed to stand still as everyone continued staring at the train wreck, their jaws hanging on the floor as Neal spoke.

‘Hope, honey… I’m sorry…’ he muttered as Peter attempted to establish eye contact with his best friend.

‘Neal!’ he said, his voice commanding. ‘That’s enough!’

Neal’s unfocussed eyes came to rest on Peter’s face and he noticed a look of disapproval he hadn't seen there in a very long time, not since he'd been a newly minted and impulsive CI had Peter given him such a scolding look of reprimand.

‘Neal, stop it! You’re embarrassing yourself’ Peter said, adding to the humiliation.

Neal stopped dead in his tracks, seemingly realizing what he’d done and he attempted to gain control of himself, fighting off Peter’s insistent grasp and trying to move towards Sara, who was avoiding his gaze.

‘I’m fine’ he muttered as Peter attempted to hold him back. ‘Sara, honey…’

Sara continued fussing with cleaning up the mess her husband had made as Elizabeth came to her rescue. Despite her husband’s heart wrenching plea, she couldn't bring herself to look at him; this was Liam’s special day and he'd managed to ruin it somehow.

‘Your are _not_ fine, Neal!’ Peter insisted as he manoeuvred his best friend towards the door. ‘Come on, let’s get you out of here!’

The last thing Neal saw as he was unceremoniously ushered out of the room was the look of sheer sadness on Hope’s face and the tears in Liam’s eyes.

TBC


	35. Chapter 35

The two men made their way down the hospital corridor, Peter’s steadying hand on Neal’s elbow as the younger man weaved slightly from side to side. They walked in silence, Neal waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was deserving of a good lecture and he knew damn well it was coming - any minute. They arrived in the hospital cafeteria and Peter led Neal to a table near the back, pointing to a chair as he spoke.

‘Sit down right here and DON’T MOVE!’ he said sternly as Neal let himself fall listlessly onto the chair.

He watched as Peter walked over and poured two cups of coffee, then made his way to pay for his purchases. Despite the alcohol that was still coursing through his veins, the events of the last few minutes had served to sober Neal up rather abruptly and he couldn't quite shake the image of Sara glaring at him or his beloved children looking so upset. He looked up to find Peter looming over him as he placed the two cups on the table, his face cold and dispassionate.

‘Drink!’ Peter ordered as he pointed to the coffee he’d put in front of his best friend.

‘Peter, I…’ Neal began as Peter raised his hand to keep him from continuing.

‘Shut up, Neal. Drink.’ he repeated as Neal’s eyes fell to his coffee cup.

The men sat in silence while Neal took a sip of the brew and winced in reaction to the scalding beverage. It was obvious Peter was taking his time, weighing his words and Neal felt like a twelve-year-old, waiting for his dad to read him the riot act for having taken the family car out on a joy ride.

Once the coffee was consumed, Neal looked up at Peter, unblinkingly. He was ready to hear it and Peter ran his hand through his hair as he prepared to let him have it.

‘What the hell are you doing, Neal?’ he finally asked, although the question was rhetorical. ‘Did you see the look on your wife and children’s faces just now? They were devastated. And what about Caitlin? You’re supposed to be a role model for her.’

Neal waited for Peter to stop talking. He seemed to be on a tirade and there was no point in interrupting him, especially since there was nothing he could possibly say to explain or excuse his behaviour.

Instead of responding, he hung his head down and played with the spoon that sat on his saucer, hitting it softly against his empty coffee cup.

‘NEAL!’ Peter said, growing impatient at his best friend’s silence.

His eyes came up to meet Peter’s, red and glassy from the alcohol he’d consumed and the tears that were building in reaction to what he'd just heard.

‘I… I don’t _know_ what I was doing’ he admitted. ‘I just… I was working on the budget and I started to drink and…’

‘That’s not what I meant, Neal’ Peter interrupted. ‘What the hell have you been doing since… since Hope’s accident? This has been going on for weeks. That morning I found booze in your coffee… that was weeks ago.’

Neal hung his head, which was beginning to throb from the sheer amount of alcohol he’d consumed and from Peter’s accusations regarding his behaviour - behaviour for which he had no legitimate justification.

‘Did you see Hope’s face in there?’ Peter continued as Neal finally reacted.

‘Of course I saw it’ Neal said a little too loudly. ‘I don't think I’ll ever forget the look on her face… or Liam’s.’

‘Then, why the hell are you doing this?’ Peter pressed, unsatisfied with the answers he was getting.

‘Why, Neal?’ he repeated, goading Neal into answering his question. ‘Why?’

‘Because I need it’ Neal finally blurted out, surprising even himself with the force of his answer.

He took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Because… because I need it Peter. I need it to sleep… and I need it to get through the day.’

Peter shook his head as he took in Neal’s words. He’d hoped Neal hadn't fallen prey to physical dependence on alcohol but sadly, his answer seemed to indicate the contrary.

‘But I _can_ stop, Peter… and I will, I will, I promise’ Neal stuttered as he leaned in to make his point.

‘Neal, you said that when I picked you up at the police station and look how things have deteriorated since then’ Peter said as a horrible thought occurred to him. ‘You didn't drive here today, did you?’

‘Of course not’ Neal answered, indignant. ‘I’m not _stupid!_ ’

He waited for Peter to contest his remark but Peter took the high road and let Neal’s statement stand.

‘How are you going to fix this? I mean, everybody wants to help you, Neal… but we can’t want it _more_ than you do.’

Neal ran a hand through his hair and let out an audible sigh. He’d been more than aware that his increasing dependence on alcohol was a dead end but he just hadn't had the courage to face it head on - at least, not until now.

‘Neal’ Peter began as he studied his best friend’s face. ‘All bets are off. I’m going to have to tell Sara about what happened.’

‘No, no! Peter, please I’m begging you. Don’t tell her. She’ll be so disappointed in me’ Neal pleaded.

‘Oh, because you think she wasn't disappointed with you just now, acting like an idiot in front of the kids?’ Peter railed as he let his voice drop. ‘In front of your daughter who’s just coming out of the worst experience of her life.’

Neal shook his head and looked away. Peter was painting a bleak picture he wasn't quite prepared to face just yet.

‘Fine, I’ll cut down, I promise.I… I won’t drink during the day’ Neal attempted, like a kid who was trying to negotiate staying up for an extra hour past his bedtime. At this point in time, he was so desperate, he would have promised anything not to be hung out to dry.

‘Neal, you have a problem and you need to face it, head on’ Peter stated without wavering. ‘Sara is going crazy with worry. Is that what you want?’

‘No… of course not’ Neal said, his voice shaky.

‘Then, grow a pair. You need to tackle this before it’s too late’ Peter said unequivocally.

Neal seemed to sink into despair as he realized the consequences of his actions. ‘How am I gonna face the kids?’ he blurted out as he held his head in his hands.

Peter just sat and stared in silence, unwilling or unable to give his best friend any advice on the matter. Neal had made his bed and now he had to lie in it - tough love and all that.

‘Do you have any on you?’ he asked, putting out his hand expectantly.

Neal hesitated for a moment, unwilling to give up the flask that was pressed reassuringly against his chest.

‘Any what?’ he asked innocently.

Peter looked like he was about to blow a gasket. ‘I swear to God Neal!’ he railed. ‘Do you?’

Neal nodded timidly and reached into his breast pocket to pull out the flask, staring down at it longingly. He could sure use a slug right about now but he resisted and reluctantly handed it over to Peter.

‘You know there’s always another bottle… somewhere’ he said defiantly as Peter glared at him.

He immediately regretted his comment and he let his head hang down. ‘Look, Peter. I know you’re only trying to help but believe it or not, I _am_ doing the best I can.’

‘Really, Neal? You expect me to believe that treating the people you love with a total disregard for their feelings is the _best_ you can do?’ Peter asked, challenging him.

WCWCWC

Up on the 8th floor, Sara was busy wiping tears from Hope’s eyes as Elizabeth sat with her arm around her goddaughter. It was not Sara’s responsibility to justify Neal’s abhorrent behaviour but it _was_ her job to pick up the pieces and help her daughter cope with the fallout from her father’s display of poor judgement.

In true Liam style, the young man had quickly departed accompanied by Cody and Caitlin. He needed to let everything sink in and despite the obvious hurt he’d felt at the sight of his dad, he wanted to try to salvage what he could of the last remaining hours of his birthday and put off dealing with the heartache to another time. He and Cody had headed out, followed by Caitlin for whom Neal’s actions were nothing new. Her foster dad’s little stunt had brought her back to an all too familiar sight from her earlier life - watching her mom stumble through life in a drunken stupor.

‘Honey…’ Sara whimpered as Hope continued to sob. ‘He’s just not himself…’

Hope looked at her mom, unable to articulate any sound although her eyes were filled with questions… What? How? Why?

Sara pulled her daughter against her chest and rocked her back and forth, fighting back tears as Elizabeth Burke looked on, dismayed. The last thing they wanted was for this to have an adverse effect on her recovery, which was already shaky at best.

‘Sweetie, I know this is upsetting but don't forget Daddy loves you… he’s just hurting right now’ Sara said, defending the indefensible. ‘He’ll be okay. We’re all going to help him get better.’

‘D-d-d-d-d’ Hope moaned, unable to get the word out.

‘It’s okay, honey, it’s okay. Shhhh…’ Sara repeated as she tried to comfort her little girl. ‘It’s okay.’

Cameron appeared with a tray for Hope’s dinner and he placed it on the table which had been cleaned up following the earlier mess. Hope put her arms out for him and Elizabeth moved away to make room for Cameron who immediately scooped her up as the sobbing started in earnest.

‘I’m here sweetie, I’m here’ he said as he looked sadly at his future mother-in-law.

WCWCWC

Neal was halfway through his third cup of coffee when he spotted her coming through the door of the large cafeteria. She was a force to be reckoned with, all five foot seven, one hundred and thirty-two pounds of her, and he wouldn't want her any other way although at the moment, he wished he could melt into a puddle and disappear under the table.

She finally spotted the two men and made her way over to loom over the table they were sitting at as they hastened to stand - not so easy for Neal who was still mostly under the influence.

She had given it a lot of thought. One way or another, the following day was the beginning of the end for Neal’s little foray into the world of alcohol abuse. The extended family was meeting in the morning to discuss staging an intervention to help Neal dig himself out of the hole he’d dug for himself. She was spitting mad at him for what he'd done and her initial reaction had been to kick his sorry ass to the curb and burn all his clothes in effigy but the end was in sight and God only knew what damage he might do in the meantime if he was left to his own devices. Better to have him nearby so she could watch over him - even if it meant being an unwilling witness to his downward spiral into self destruction. 

Neal searched her face, unsure what she was going to say or do but fully aware that his job was to shut the hell up and listen to what she had come to tell him. Despite that knowledge, he opened his mouth and prepared to speak.

‘Sara…’ he began, his voice halting. ‘I’m so…’

‘Save it, Neal’ she said as she stared him down, his mouth agape. ‘Listen to me, I’m only going to say this once. This is how it’s going to go down.’

Considering the circumstances, he would have been willing to do just about anything to keep her from turning her back on him and kicking him out of their home. He had to make amends to both Liam and Caitlin to say nothing of Hope and he hoped Sara would give him another chance to try to make things right.

‘Sober up and you can come home tonight but no more flaking out on the couch like some common drunk. I want you sleeping in our bed tonight and every other night and there’s no more drinking during the day. Is that clear?’ she said without taking a single breath. ‘And you’re not driving _anywhere_ until we get this all sorted out.’

He nodded as if he’d lost the ability to speak.

‘Neal?’ she asked, needing to hear him agree verbally to what she’d just said.

‘Y-y-yeah, yeah, of course. Anything you say’ Neal muttered.

‘Give me your car keys, right now’ she said as she continued to play hard ball to Peter’s astonishment.

Neal fumbled and handed over a set of keys.

‘Both cars’ she said, her voice impassive as he fiddled around in his pants pocket and located the second set of car keys.

‘Sara… honey…’ he attempted as she continued to glare at him.

‘Later Neal. I don’t want to talk to you, let alone look at you while you’re in this state.’

Neal cringed as the words hit home. He felt like crap and all he wanted was to be reassured he hadn't completely destroyed his relationship with his wife and kids.

Sara prepared to leave, turning to look at Peter. ‘Will you make sure he makes it home safely?’

Peter nodded, not brave enough to contradict her in any way. Sara had just turned on her heels, preparing to leave when she turned to face her husband one last time.

‘And don’t even _think_ about going up to see Hope tonight. She’s upset and Cam is with her. You can see her when you’ve sobered up tomorrow. You don't deserve to be her dad tonight.’

Neal gasped as her words hit him straight in the gut.

’Yes ma’am’ he said by rote as she frowned at him in response to the moniker she hated.

‘Sorry… babe’ he managed to blurt out.

And just like that, Neal had miraculously been given another chance to make things right.

TBC


	36. Chapter 36

Sara pulled her eyes away from her laptop and grabbed for the phone, glancing at the display as she answered breathlessly.

‘How is she?’ she asked without the customary greeting.

‘She finally went to sleep’ came Cameron’s quiet voice.

They’d been exchanging texts most of the evening as Sara continued to fret about her daughter’s state of mind and the impact Neal’s little performance had had on her. Hope had spent the last few hours agitated and confused, unable to express how she was feeling, her ability to speak those one or two word sentences having vanished, at least temporarily.

‘How’s Mr. Caffrey doing?’ Cam asked as Sara glanced at the clock.

‘He’s still with Peter but he should be home soon’ she answered.

‘He texted me about an hour ago and asked me to tell Hope he loved her’ Cam said hesitantly. ‘That seemed to help her settle a little bit and then she was able to go to sleep.’

Leave it to Neal to find a way to circumvent her very clear instructions - although, in this case, it seemed to have been the right thing to do in order to mitigate the damage he’d done earlier.

‘Thanks Cam’ Sara said. ‘I’m… I’m sorry you had to see him like that.’

‘Hey, don't worry about it. I’m part of the family, right?’ he answered with a reassuring chuckle. ‘And don’t worry about Hope, I’m going to spend the night and I’ll see you over at the Burkes tomorrow morning at 10:00.’

‘Well, try to get some sleep, we’ve got a big day tomorrow’ Sara said. ‘And thanks… for being there for her.’

‘Hey… where else would I be?’ Cameron replied before hanging up.

Sara returned to her computer. She’d been researching alcohol withdrawal symptoms since she’d gotten home and there was no dearth of information online. Until such time as Neal agreed to get professional help, it was becoming increasingly obvious that he would not be able to quit cold turkey, no matter how much he wanted to. As well as the psychological withdrawal from alcohol, there were all the physical symptoms related to cutting it out completely after several weeks of abuse. Many websites advocated tapering off as a means to reduce consumption; anything else would be setting Neal up for failure and that wouldn't do any of them any good. 

Keeping him off the road was a priority and she and Neal would need to have a frank discussion about how much he was actually consuming throughout the day. To be honest, except for his little performance that afternoon, she hadn't seen much in the way of impairment during the daytime hours. He was still getting up every day, going about his business, visiting Hope at the hospital and putting in some time at both the gallery and the school. This whole mess had started with his need to have a few drinks in order to fall asleep at night and she worried that if she tried to keep him on too tight a leash, things would become untenable for him.

She was no health professional and she was in no position to dictate a course of action in such a complex situation; for now, all she wanted was to keep him safe until they could get him the help he needed. If that meant letting him get his fill before bedtime, so be it.

‘Hey Mom!’ she heard as the front door slammed shut - she could never get him to close that damn door gently.

‘In the kitchen’ she called out as she closed the laptop and took a deep breath.

Liam appeared, looking more relaxed than the last time she’d seen him.

‘How was the movie?’ she asked as she hugged him.

‘Good’ he said in his usual understated way. ‘Is Dad home yet?’

Sara shook her head and Liam could see clouds in her eyes.

‘Mom, don’t worry so much. I’m not a baby, I know Dad’s hurting and that he hasn't been himself lately’ he said, sounding wiser than his years. ‘… and my relationship with him is strong enough to get past this.’

‘Oh, honey…’ Sara said as she began to cry. 

Liam reached out for his mom, taking her in his arms as she let herself be comforted by her son. He seemed to be at his best during hard times. He’d been steadfast during his dad’s recovery from a bullet wound two years before and his calm demeanour had kept things from escalating on more than one occasion in the past.

‘Mom…’ he said as he pulled away. ‘We’re a family and we’ll get through this.’

She scoffed at his ability to see the glass as half full. ‘How come you’re so smart’ she said, laughing through the tears.

He smiled and shrugged and Sara suddenly saw Neal in his eyes. ‘Because of you and Dad.’

WCWCWC

‘Thanks for dinner, Peter’ Neal said as they drove into the quiet suburban neighbourhood. ‘I’m sorry I put you through all this…’

Peter took his eyes off the road for a moment and glanced at Neal, his hand reaching up to touch his shoulder.

‘We’ll find a way to get through this, Neal. I know we will.’

Neal nodded and gave a half-hearted smile, wishing he had the same confidence his best friend seemed to have in him. He could already feel himself shaking and he cringed as he felt the sweat rolling down his back - the usual signs it was time to take a drink if he wanted to remain functional.

‘I’ve decided I’m going to tell Sara tonight…’ Neal began. ‘… about what happened with the police. She deserves to know the truth.’

Peter smiled. ‘I think that’s a good start’ he agreed.

Neal stared down at his shaking hands and was overcome with doubts; as much as he wanted to do the right thing, he wasn't sure he had it in him. He needed a drink… badly.

‘I don’t think I can… quit cold turkey’ he admitted, his voice shaky.

Peter looked sadly at the broken man sitting next to him. Neal had always had the ability to put a good face on things but now he was totally exposed and vulnerable and unable to see a positive outcome for his dire situation.

‘Talk to Sara. She seemed like she was willing to cut you some slack… but Neal, sooner or later you’re going to have to face this head on. You can't keep hiding from this thing.’

Neal looked ahead, his face tortured as he listened to Peter talk.

‘Just remember, you’re not alone. You have so many people who love you, who care about what happens to you. It’s up to you to decide if _that’s_ worth more than a bottle of scotch.’

WCWCWC

By the time Peter’s car came up the driveway on Meadowbrook Street, Sara had decided on a strategy. She’d taken out the bottle of scotch from its not so secret hiding place behind the cleaning products and she’d pulled out a glass from the kitchen cupboard. She hoped she was doing the right thing; the last thing she wanted was to witness Neal having a meltdown right in front of her eyes.

She sat in the kitchen, waiting for him to arrive, welcome silence enveloping her after a most turbulent day. She wanted her husband back, her wonderful, sweet, caring husband but Neal’s newfound fixation with where his next drink was coming from had taken him away from them and she needed to find a way to remind him of what was truly important in their lives.

With any luck, Hope would be coming home from the hospital soon and Sara needed her husband to be fully functional when that happened. Their daughter would need help to recover and Sara didn't feel up to facing that daunting task alone. Her musings were interrupted by noise at the front door and the soft voices of her husband and his best friend and she stood to welcome them home.

‘Thanks Peter… for everything’ she heard Neal say as they came into sight.

‘No problem. Get some sleep’ Peter said as he gave Sara a small wave and stepped back out into the night, leaving the couple alone to talk.

They stood face to face, Neal feeling his knees shaking; it had been a horribly emotional day and he was badly in need of a drink in order to settle his nerves. But most of all, he needed to confess his earlier lie to his wife and get that off his chest. His breathing grew shallow and he could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he waited for Sara to say something - anything.

‘Are you all right?’ Sara asked, not what he'd expected to hear after her earlier tirade.

‘I could use a hug’ he said, summoning his Caffrey persona and giving her a half-hearted, mischievous smile.

Her arms were instantly reaching out for him and he let out a long, anguished sob as he let his body melt into hers, so warm and so familiar. It was the first time in weeks they’d connected in a genuine, honest way. For weeks, he’d been busy hiding his drinking, keeping her from finding out how bad it really was, trying to avoid her probing gaze morning, noon and night and staying out of from their marital bed so she wouldn’t see through the lies and the deceptions. Their twenty year marriage had been based on trust and honesty and it all came flooding back as she held him tenderly without holding back.

‘Sara…’ he breathed into her hair. ‘I’m so, so, so sorry.’

His body shook violently against hers and Sara worried that he might collapse if she didn't hold on to him tightly enough. She brought her arms around his waist to support him and pulled away to get a good look at his eyes.

‘Neal, you’re shaking’ she said as they walked together towards the kitchen.

‘I need a drink’ he admitted without artifice; it was a little too late to be playing games.

His eyes went immediately to the bottle of scotch which sat on the table next to the empty glass and he turned to look at Sara, his eyes narrowing as he tried to put the pieces together.

She took his hand and led him to the table, inviting him to sit and in silence she walked over to the cupboard to get a second glass. Neal’s eyes went from his wife to the bottle which sat there, taunting him, and he sat on his hands, determined not to reach out for it.

‘We have a lot to talk about’ Sara said as she sat and opened the bottle, pouring them each a glass. ‘But I know you _need_ one of these first.’

She handed him the glass and he reached out, his hand shaking to take it from her. His whole universe was focussed on the contents of that glass for a brief moment and he gave her a sad smile and brought the glass to his lips, downing it in one gulp as she took a small sip or hers.

‘What about Liam? I need to talk to him… to apologize’ Neal said, his voice shaky.

‘He’s already gone up to bed. You can see him the morning’ she answered reassuringly.

‘Sara’ he began, his hands laid out in front of him to keep them from shaking. ‘We need to talk.’

She scoffed; if ever there was an understatement, that was it. They’d been ignoring the elephant in the room for the past several weeks and it was time for both of them to lay their cards on the table, no holds barred.

Sara poured Neal a second drink as he watched her in silence. He knew that within minutes, the shaking would subside and he’d feel better but he didn't want to overdo it; he needed his mind to be clear when he came clean about his whereabouts that fateful day.

‘I lied to you’ he said simply as her questioning eyes came up to meet his. ‘That day you had the meeting with the prosecutor…’

Sara bit her lip and waited; obviously, Neal needed to get something off his chest and she didn't want to fly off the handle. There’d been enough drama for one day.

‘There was no emergency at work, that was a lie’ he continued, staring down at his glass. ‘I’d been drinking that day and I was stopped by the police.’

‘What?’ Sara uttered in response to his shocking revelation.

Neal forced himself to stay on course and get through his confession. ‘I was on my way to meet you - hell, I was just a few blocks away - and I got stopped for running a red light. They brought me in to the station and I had to give them a urine sample…’

Sara gasped as he spoke; this was so much more serious than she’d imagined.

Neal hastened to continue. ‘But I wasn't over the legal limit… thankfully’ he said as his eyes returned to his glass and this time, he paused and took a gulp before continuing. ‘I know… I know that doesn't make it right but… well, I got lucky and after that, I was _so_ careful about how much I had during the day.’

He watched the hurt and sadness in her eyes and his hand went to hers as she sat there, stunned by what she was hearing.

‘I swear Repo, I never, _ever_ drove drunk… I would pace myself and have an ounce or two every few hours but… that day, at Liam’s school, I was _not_ drunk.’

‘Neal, how did it get this bad?’ Sara asked rhetorically.

He shrugged, looking sad and broken and for a moment she was afraid she would never get him back.

‘I’m going to quit, I promise’ he whimpered. ‘Just give me a chance… please Sara, don't throw me out. I’ll do anything you ask but… I can’t bear the thought of not being with you and the kids. Just give me some time to work this out’ he pleaded as his eyes filled with tears.

‘Neal, you’re going to need help…’ she began as he interrupted.

‘No, no. I can do this, I swear I can do this, honey. I swear…just… just… just give me a chance. Please Sara, please’ he begged as he squeezed her hand.

Sara wiped the tear that had fallen onto her cheek and looked into his desperate eyes. It was going to be hard to bring him to the realization that this was an addiction and that he would need professional help in order to give it up. She thought ahead to the following day when they would all be getting together to discuss how to proceed and she felt stronger knowing she wasn't alone in finding a way to work this out.

For tonight, her job was to keep him safe and she stood, moving in nice and close to him as she reached out and cradled his face against her chest. He moaned softly in response to the unexpected gesture and he melted into her, bringing his arms around her waist as he began to weep softly. They remained like that for a few moments, in complete silence, he, drawing strength from her and she, delighting in feeling his warm, loving arms around her.

‘Honey…’ Sara said as she pulled away, taking his face in her hands and looking into his mournful eyes.

‘Do what you need to do’ she continued as she nodded with her head in the direction of the poison on the table. ‘And then come to bed, okay? I’ll be waiting for you.’

Neal nodded and gave her a sad smile before letting her out of his grasp and turning grudgingly, yet lustfully, towards his new mistress.

TBC


	37. Chapter 37

On Saturday morning, at 8:15, Neal made his way downstairs, surprised to find his son sitting at the kitchen table staring at a bowl of soggy Cheerios. He’d been hoping for a chance to talk to him before he took off to teach his Saturday morning class at the June Ellington School of Art, although he was still struggling with what he could possibly say to him to explain away his outlandish behaviour from the previous day.

His little misadventure at the hospital and its aftermath had left him exhausted and, after Sara had gone up to bed and left him alone with his bottle, he’d only needed a couple of more gulps before he’d willingly followed suit. One of the things Sara had been adamant about was that he sleep in their bed every night and Neal had been relieved to find her waiting for him when he’d finally made it upstairs, dragging his feet. She’d insisted on giving him a massage which had only intensified the feeling of lethargy brought on by the alcohol and Neal had drifted off to sleep within minutes, his wife’s warm, soft hands, working at untangling those tight knots in his back and shoulders.

Unbeknownst to him, Sara had lay there for a long time, watching him sleep, running her hands through his hair and thinking about their mission to intervene and bring Neal back to the fold. Although he’d been physically present since Hope’s accident, emotionally, he’d been missing in action for weeks now. She missed his steadfast presence and she longed for his strength, hislaughter, the unrelenting teasing, the warmth and intimacy. Plotting to get Neal to listen to them seemed wrong but after talking to Peter and Elizabeth, she’d realized they needed to all sit in the same room and come up with a common strategy to deal with the situation. She’d finally drifted off to sleep, much too late and Neal had had to coax her to get up and jump in the shower before making his way downstairs.

‘Good morning!’ Neal called out as he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across from his son. ‘How come you’re up so early on a Saturday?’

Liam’s droopy eyes went from his bowl to his dad’s face as he prepared to tell him a little white lie. ‘Mom’s taking me shopping for… clothes’ he said, hesitating.

Neal nodded his head in understanding. ‘I’m glad you’re up. I was hoping I’d get the chance to talk to you. I wanted to apologize for what happened at the hospital yesterday’ Neal said, sounding just like the composed, level-headed man he used to be.

Liam shrugged, trying to make light of things. His dad had always been so strong and dependable, the one person he could always count on; seeing him embarrass himself in front of everyone, including Cody, had been difficult, there was no doubt about it.

‘Liam, I was drunk and my behaviour was… inexcusable. I saw how upset you were’ Neal said as he sipped his coffee.

Liam remained quiet, his eyes going from his dad’s face back to his bowl of cereal.

‘There’s no excuse for it…’ Neal continued as he searched for the right words - he, of silver tongue fame who could usually convince anyone of practically anything. ‘I’m… having a hard time with… I’m drinking too much and your mom and I… well, we had a talk about it last night and I’m going to make some changes so that nothing like that will ever happen again.’

‘Dad, I just want you to feel… better’ Liam murmured. ‘I know you’ve been upset since Hope’s accident but she’s getting better now and…’

‘You’re right’ Neal interrupted. ‘She is and… I’m going to cut down on the drinking so that I can be there for her… and for you…’

Suddenly, Neal’s voice became shaky and he stopped talking; the last thing he wanted from his son was pity and he realized he was on the verge of sounding maudlin. He coughed and stood to put his coffee cup in the sink before turning to face his son, his composure returning.

‘I’m going to find a way to make up for ruining your birthday, I promise’ he said.

‘You didn't _ruin_ it, Dad.’

‘Yes, I did. I made everyone uncomfortable and I know how important it was for you to have Cody there to celebrate’ Neal said, leaning on the counter. ‘I promise I’ll apologize to him, first chance I get.’

Liam returned to his cereal which was now unbearably soggy and he pushed his bowl aside as he stood to face his dad.

‘Dad’ he said as he stood face to face with the man he so admired. ‘Don’t worry about it. I love you. That’s never gonna change.’

Neal felt a huge lump in his throat. He didn't feel worthy of such unconditional love but he smiled at his son and reached out to give him a hug.

‘I love you too, Buddy. So much’ he managed to say.

WCWCWC

By the time Sara and Liam arrived in Brooklyn, Mozzie was already there, sipping on a glass of red wine, despite the early hour. Elizabeth had made coffee and had set out some muffins and scones on the kitchen counter as they waited for everyone to arrive. Caitlin had been dropped off in New Rochelle, to be with Linda and they were both on standby, waiting to participate in the discussion by phone when all the guests had arrived.

‘How are you feeling?’ El asked as she hugged her best friend.

‘Like a traitor’ Sara replied without hesitation.

Elizabeth gave her a sad smile and invited her into the living room as Peter gave Liam a fortifying pat on the back and took a seat next to his nephew on the couch.

‘Cameron called’ El said, as she handed Sara a cup of coffee. ‘He’s on his way.’

‘And Linda and Caitlin are waiting for us to call when Marion gets here’ Sara added, wringing her hands.

‘How did it go last night after I left?’ Peter asked.

‘We had a talk. Neal told me about the incident with the police’ she said to Peter as he nodded, relieved. 

Liam, Mozzie and Elizabeth looked on puzzled as Peter shrugged; at least, he wasn't going to have to be the one to tell Sara about the unfortunate incident.

‘He came to bed, like I asked him to and he slept well.’

‘I guess _you_ can't say the same, huh?’ El asked as she ran her hand down Sara’s back.

‘I just hate going behind his back. He’d be so humiliated to know we’re all sitting around here, dissecting his every move’ Sara admitted.

Peter piped up. ’Sara, we can’t let this go on any longer. He’s made promises to me - and to you - that he hasn't been able to keep and after yesterday… well, he’s in free fall and it’s just a question of time before something terrible happens.’

There was a gentle knock on the door and Cameron peeked in, waving to everyone as he took a seat with the group.

‘How’s Hope this morning?’ Sara asked anxiously.

‘Not bad’ he said as he gratefully took a cup of coffee from El’s hands. ‘She had a nightmare… I was glad I stayed over.’

‘Has she spoken yet?’ Elizabeth asked.

‘No. Not since yesterday afternoon’ he admitted sadly.

There was another, more decisive knock on the door and Peter rose to see who it was - not that there was much doubt. A pleasant woman with a warm smile stood with her hand outstretched.

‘Hi, you must be Peter. I’m Marion Birch.’

WCWCWC

Neal stood at the cash register in the liquor store on Webster Avenue with his purchases - a brand new flask and a bottle of fine scotch. It was 9:38 in the morning and he was most likely their first customer of the day - considering they’d only opened eight minutes earlier. The young man behind the cash yawned, seemingly unperturbed that a man of Neal’s stature was making such purchases at this hour of the day - surely he’d seen worse, the ex-con rationalized.

Neal set up at the counter by the front door of the store and filled his new flask with the amber liquid before placing the bottle in the briefcase he’d brought along for just this purpose. He reasoned that he wasn't _really_ breaking his promise to Sara. After all, he’d taken the train and not the car and he only intended to have enough to drink so he wouldn’t be shaking too severely as he taught his class. He looked around to see if the clerk was paying him any mind and, satisfied that no one was looking, he took a couple of fortifying gulps before stashing the flask in his coat pocket and heading out and down the block towards his beloved art school.

WCWCWC

‘Can you hear us?’ Marion asked as Peter placed the phone on the coffee table.

‘Loud and clear’ came Linda’s soft voice. ‘Caitlin is right beside me.’

Marion uncapped her pen and placed the writing pad on her lap as she looked around the room and smiled at everyone.

‘I know this is an uncomfortable situation for all of you but I want to remind you that you’re here for one reason and one reason alone. Because you all love Neal and you want what’s best for him’ she began as everyone nodded.

‘The first thing I’d like to do is give each of you a chance to tell us what you’ve observed about Neal’s behaviour these past few weeks. When someone starts to drink excessively, it becomes one of the most important things in their lives and they go to great lengths to keep people from finding out just how dependent they’ve become on alcohol. In order to get a full picture of Neal’s situation, I’d like to go around and have everyone share your observations, when you first started to notice he was drinking more, when you’ve witnessed or suspected him of being drunk. I want to make sure there are no secrets in this room because that will only serve to create a wedge between us and we won’t be able to be effective in our intervention. A person who has become dependent on alcohol will play one person against another in order to cover up what they’re doing and we can’t have that. Who would like to start?’ she asked as she looked around at the group.

Everyone seemed uncomfortable at what they perceived as betraying Neal - despite the very reasonable case Marion had just made.

‘I’ll go first’ Peter said as he took a deep breath. ‘My first inkling something wasn't right was a couple of weeks ago. Sara had told El that she was worried Neal was drinking a lot at bedtime but I hadn’t really seen it for myself, well except for that night that we had dinner at your place and he got pretty tipsy but… well, who doesn't do that from time to time?’ he said.

‘But a few weeks ago, Neal came into the gallery with a couple of cups of coffee and when I took a sip, it was obvious the coffee had been spiked’ he explained as all eyes and ears turned towards him. ‘He’d given me the wrong cup and I confronted him about drinking during the day but… well, you know Neal, he put on that big, bright smile of his and told me to relax, that it was all under control and that he’d just added a little scotch to his coffee because he’d had too much to drink the night before and he was feeling shaky.’

Everyone listened as Peter continued. ‘Hum…it didn't feel right at the time but I didn't push it… I should have…’

Marion looked at the worried faces around the room. ‘I want to reiterate that none of you did anything wrong. You love Neal and of course you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. Guilt has no room here, everyone has done the best they can.’

‘Well…’ Peter continued as he recounted the events. ‘… I started to poke around the gallery and I found a bottle hidden in the bathroom, under the sink. I was just wrapping my head around that when I got a call from Neal. He was at the police station and he’d been pulled over for running a red light. Turns out he’d been drinking and he had an open bottle of booze in the back seat of his car. They ran a sobriety test and he just… well, he squeaked by just under the legal limit.’

Elizabeth, Liam and Cameron exchanged worried glances; they were hearing this for the first time.

‘I read him the riot act. He promised me he’d quit and he begged me not to tell Sara about what happened, said it would destroy her… and… well, I let him convince me, despite my better judgement. I told him that if he didn't straighten out, I would have to tell her but… I just couldn't bring myself to do it…’

Marion’s eyes went to Sara, who was sitting on the edge of the couch.

‘He confessed about it last night’ she said, her voice quiet. ‘Said he felt guilty for lying to me… it was the day I met with the prosecutor and he knew I’d been counting on him to be there with me.’

‘Linda? Caitlin? What about you?’ Marion asked, looking down at the phone.

The room grew even quieter as everyone leaned in to hear Linda’s voice, weak and low on the other end of the line.

‘I’ve known for a while too. I caught him drinking when he thought I was sleeping. I tried to confront him about it although as you all know, I’ve had my own, long struggle with alcohol and drugs. He didn't waste any time reminding me of that but… well, I took it for what it was, just his way of justifying what he was doing. Of course, he refused to talk about it and I decided I needed to cut him some slack if I didn't want him to pull away for good. I tried to bring it up a couple of more times, relating it to myself and letting him know I wasn't judging him but… anyway, he wasn't ready to hear it and he hasn't been to see me in over a week now. I don't think he wants me to see him like that…or to have to put up with my questions.’

Caitlin’s younger, more vibrant voice came on the line. ‘I’ve heard him pretty well every night, roaming around downstairs and a couple of times, I went down and just covered him up with a blanket’ she said, her voice sad. ‘When I was little, I used to do that for my mom when she passed out…’

They could all hear her breathing quicken and her voice continued, strained. ‘Mr. C… well, he’s such a wonderful person. I don't want him to end up like my mom…’

Sara wiped a tear as she heard her foster daughter’s tense voice; she and Neal had been united in helping the teen make a better life for herself and her heart broke as she heard Caitlin’s concerns for her foster dad.

‘Mozzie?’ Marion asked the older man who’d been sitting there, slowly sipping his wine. ‘Do you have anything you want to say?’

He scoffed and held up his glass of wine as if in a toast. ‘I’m not much of a role model’ he admitted. ‘Neal’s never been on my case about my love affair with fine wine but… well, I’m here because he’s on a collision course and I want to be able to help…’

Marion’s eyes moved to Liam and Cameron who hadn’t yet said a word.

‘Liam, you’ve being awfully quiet’ Marion said as she turned towards the young man.

TBC


	38. Chapter 38

Neal stepped onto the train and settled at a window seat, looking out onto the bright spring day. He had to admit it was a relief not to be driving anywhere. It took the pressure off and he no longer had to monitor the amount of alcohol he was ingesting throughout the day - not as closely, anyway. He’d made a detour to the men’s room to get his fill before boarding the train and he let the warm, fuzzy feeling settle in his veins, his body relaxing as he let his head fall back on the seat and closed his eyes, letting out an audible sigh.

Even teaching his beloved art classes seemed to have lost its appeal these last few weeks as his focus narrowed in on such mundane issues such as… did he have enough booze on him to get him through the day? Would he have an opportunity to slip away if he needed to have a drink? Could he keep himself composed and not look impaired as he went about his business?

In some strange, sick way, he was enjoying the challenge of finding that critical tipping point between feeling mellow and overdoing it and losing control of his actions. As a conman, taking risks had always been a big part of the equation - an exhilarating feeling, in fact -and, similarly, playing this little game with himself led to a rush he couldn't possibly have imagined.

He thought of Sara and Peter; what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. He was reasonably sure that he could hold it together for them, and for Hope and Liam, if he just stayed on that thin line and didn't let himself fall into the dark pit he’d fallen into the day before at the hospital.Hope… he needed to get himself over there to see her sometime today so he could apologize for his behaviour. She didn't deserve a dad who was falling apart when she needed him the most. Her move to rehab was set to happen on the following Wednesday and that would be hard on her, considering she’d have to adapt to an all new environment and start working hard on speech therapy, to say nothing of her physical rehabilitation. He'd have to be really careful to monitor his alcohol intake if he was going to be there for her.

His head grew heavy and his mind blurred as he teetered between consciousness and sleep and suddenly a familiar voice was heard echoing in the almost empty car.

‘Mind if I sit down?’ came the sweet voice as Neal frowned and forced an eye open.

The sight of June Ellington standing there, all decked out in a tailored suit and high heels, hit him like a sucker punch to the gut and he felt his body forcibly pushed up against the back of his seat as his eyes widened in surprise.

‘June! What…?’ he managed to say as she smiled and took a seat across from him, looking just as he’d known her twenty-five years before.

‘Hello darling’ she said, her voice warm. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘But…’ Neal muttered, staring at her in disbelief.

‘I know, you’re surprised to see me but I’ve been watching you for a while and I thought you might appreciate a little visit.’

To say that Neal was taken aback at the sight of his beloved friend was an understatement. He was still getting over her death, a little more than a year earlier, and he thought of her often as he went about his daily business. Stepping into the June Ellington School of Art every morning and walking past the portrait he’d so lovingly painted always put a smile on his face and served to remind him why he’d started the school in the first place.

‘Darling, what are you _doing_?’ she asked lovingly as her hand reached out to touch his knee.

‘What… what do you mean?’ he stuttered, bewildered.

‘What happened to the wonderfully happy and serene man I left a while back?’

Neal was still reeling from the sight of her; this was either some booze fuelled hallucination or a hell of a weird dream, yet seeing her sitting there was much too comforting a sight to question, considering he’d long ago accepted that he would never again be in her presence.

‘June…’ he said, sitting up in his seat. ‘I’ve… I’ve missed you _so_ much.’

She smiled fondly and waited for him to continue.

‘Everything is just… so messed up’ he said, sounding even more unsure about his place in the world than he'd been when he’d first met her, all those years ago.

Back then, he'd struggled with who he was… with _what_ he was, finding it impossible to reconcile the conman he’d been labelled as with the man he aspired to be. She’d been loving and patient, telling him repeatedly that he would eventually figure things out for himself - something he’d managed to do over time. But now, he was flailing and he wasn't sure anymore _who_ he was, drowning in dulled sensations brought on by booze, unable and unwilling to let himself feel those emotions he'd worked so hard to let himself experience over the years.

‘I… I’m gonna lose Sara and the kids if I keep this up but… but I can’t seem to help myself. It hurts too much when I let myself… feel things’ he managed to say with so much clarity he surprised himself.

‘But darling, those emotions you’re trying so hard to suffocate are not _all_ bad’ she said softly.

‘You weren't there, June. It was horrible… she was lying there on the pavement, broken in a million pieces and it was all my fault’ he explained, his voice choked.

June stood and moved to the seat next to him, her warmth so comforting against his suddenly numb body. ’You’re right, it _was_ horrible but none of it was your fault, Neal’ she said as she stopped momentarily to let her words sink in.

‘Is that why you’re punishing yourself like this? Because you think what happened to Hope was your fault?’ she asked patiently.

‘It _was_ my fault’ he stated unequivocally. ‘If I’d heard the car coming… if I’d moved out of the way… she wouldn't have been standing there in its path and…’

Suddenly, June was reaching for him and she ran her hand lovingly down his cheek, Neal melting in the welcome warmth of her touch.

‘My sweet, sweet boy’ she said, her voice barely a whisper.

His eyes came up to meet hers, seeing all the kindness and wisdom there, the loving warmth he hadn't realized just how much he’d missed.

‘June’ he pleaded. ‘How do I make this better?’

‘You already know how, Neal’ she answered with self-assurance. ‘You’re just not ready to do it yet.’

The train lurched, startling him and he opened his eyes to find the seat beside him empty. 

Painfully, silently empty.

WCWCWC

Marion Birch waited patiently as Liam collected his thoughts. Although she was meeting him for the first time, she felt as though she knew both of Neal and Sara’s kids very well. The couple had been in therapy for months now, working through the aftermath of Sara’s sexual assault and she’d seen firsthand just how much they both loved and respected their children. As Sara had described, Liam was a very quiet, introspective young man who weighed his words carefully and was concerned about hurting other people’s feelings. She watched his eyes as he carefully chose his words, likely not wanting to disparage the man he loved and respected so much.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and warm, none of the bitterness or acrimony one might expect from someone whose father had, just as recently as the day before, showed total disregard for his feelings - on his birthday, of all days.

‘I’m worried about him’ he began as Peter brought his hand to rest on the young man’s back. ‘He’s… he’s always been there for me and Hope and… I’m scared he won’t ever be like he was before.’

Marion nodded. ‘How has his behaviour affected you?’ she asked. 

Liam glanced over at his mom and she nodded. ‘Honey, we’re doing this for your dad. You need to be honest.’

‘A few weeks ago, I came down and I caught him putting something in his coffee but… he just acted like everything was normal and I went along with it’ he confessed.

‘And at night, I can hear him moving around downstairs but I… I don't know how to deal with it so I just… I’ve been staying out of it. I wish there was something I could say or do…’

‘Liam…’ Marion interrupted as she leaned in and looked into his deep set eyes. ‘Your dad is a grownup. Nobody expects you to take care of him.’

‘But that’s just it, Dad always says we’re a family and we need to look out for each other. I should have done something when I first saw what he was doing’ he admitted as Sara let out a soft sob.

‘And I hate what this is doing to my mom. She doesn't deserve to be feeling like this’ Liam said as he brought his eyes down to stare at his hands.

He continued, his voice soft. ‘He came to get me at school the other day and I could smell the alcohol on his breath and I… I panicked and I made up some lame excuse to go back into the school and I called my mom’ he explained as his voice got a little shaky. ‘He’s my _dad_ … and I ratted him out.’

Mozzie, who was sitting on the other side of him, reached over and put a reassuring hand on his knee. ‘You did the right thing, Liam’ he said as the young man’s eyes filled with tears.

‘And yesterday… well, it hurt so much to see him like that. Not for me but… for Mom and for him. They’ve always worked so hard to be good role models for Hope and me and I know he’s kicking himself for the way he acted… I just want my dad back.’

The room grew so quiet one could hear the proverbial pin drop and everyone waited for a moment as Liam’s words sank in. 

Marion’s eyes settled on Cameron Armstrong and the young man sat up, ready to speak.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Caffrey have been nothing but welcoming to me. Mr. Caffrey gave me a job at the gallery and he believed in me and when I started dating Hope, I knew they were worried about our age difference but they gave me a chance and now, well, they’ve been so supportive of us’.

He swallowed and everyone waited for him to continue.

‘I feel bad because… when Hope got hurt… I said some pretty nasty things to him. I was angry and scared and…’

Peter spoke up; he'd been privy to the situation between Cameron and Neal and he knew that, ultimately, Cam had done the right thing by apologizing for his ill spoken remarks.

‘Cam, Neal doesn't blame you. He knows how much you love Hope and he told me you’d apologized. You can’t blame yourself for _any_ of this’ he said.

Cameron looked over at Peter and smiled. ‘Mr. Caffrey’s a great guy and a wonderful dad. The best compliment Hope ever gave me was to say I reminded her of him. I just want him to get better because if he doesn't get better, I don’t think Hope _ever_ will’ he concluded.

‘Sara?’ Marion said, turning to face her patient. ‘What do you want to say?’

Sara shook her head and looked down at her shaking hands. ‘I want to do what’s right for Neal. He’s not thinking straight and… well, like Liam said, we always have each others’ backs and he needs me and I… I don't know what to do.’

‘Tell us how this has affected you?’ Marion asked.

Sara scoffed at the question; truth was it had affected her in every single way.

‘I’ve known Neal for almost thirty years. I knew him when he…’ she hesitated for a moment, unwilling to share more than necessary about her husband’s checkered past. ‘…when he was struggling with his life. I watched him become a loving, supportive husband, an amazing father, a wonderful friend to everyone in our lives and now…’

The words were spilling out as were the emotions and she began to sob as she endeavoured to finish her thought.‘This is… it’s like he’s died or left us but it’s worse because he’s still there every day but… he’s _not_ there, not really, not like before and I miss him and I’m scared.’

Sniffles were heard as Sara finished speaking and Marion handed her a tissue as everyone composed themselves.

‘Is there consensus in this room that Neal needs help?’ she asked.

Heads nodded all around the room and Caitlin and Linda were heard agreeing over the phone.

‘Well then, here’s the bad news. It’s going to get worse before it gets better’ Marion said.

‘I don’t want to ambush him’ Sara blurted out.

‘Sara’s right’ Peter said. ‘Neal doesn't do well in situations where he’s cornered and not in control. I don't think that surprising him and confronting him is the way to go. He’ll just pull away and we might lose him forever.’

‘Okay. That’s fair’ Marion said. ‘An intervention doesn't _have_ to be an ambush but it _is_ a confrontation. He needs to be confronted to what his drinking does to all of you, how it affects you and why you won’t put up with it any longer.’

‘Will he have to go away… to rehab?’ Sara asked, her voice shaking. ‘Because I don't think he’ll want to leave Hope, not now.’

‘It doesn't _have_ to be rehab. Some individuals do well with therapy and a twelve step program like AA for example. I’m not sure what would work best for Neal but he has to be willing to make some changes if he’s going to get better’ Marion explained.

‘Are you all willing to confront him about his drinking?’ she asked. ‘Because if there’s a weak link in this room, I need to know about it right now.’

She let her eyes roam around the room, staring at all the faces and her eyes rested on Sara and Liam.

‘It’s going to be hardest for the two of you’ she said addressing them. ‘You live with him and your words are going to have the most impact. Sara, are you willing to have Neal leave the house if he doesn't agree to get help?’

Sara seemed to falter for a moment, tears rolling down her face. ‘I… I can’t keep living with him like this. This is not the life I want…’

Marion wrote a few notes on her pad before speaking. ‘I’m not here to make any of you say or do anything you’re not comfortable with. But I will say one thing, if even just _one_ of you is not on board with this, the intervention is doomed. Neal is a smart man and right now he’s managed to rationalize making some very poor choices… if he senses that one of you can be manipulated, he’ll seize on that and he’ll continue to rationalize what he's doing. Not because it’s Neal, just because it’s human nature.’

‘I’m ready to confront him’ Mozzie said as Elizabeth nodded.

‘Me too’ she said.

‘Count me in’ Peter added as Caitlin was heard on the phone. ‘Me too.’

‘Linda?’

‘Yes’ came her weak voice.

‘Same here’ Cameron agreed.

All eyes turned to Sara and Liam.

Sara reached over Mozzie to take her son’s hand as they looked into each other’s eyes, unwitting partners on a mission they both wished they didn't have to carry out.

TBC


	39. Chapter 39

Sara startled as the phone rang in her nearby purse and she glanced down to check the display. She looked guiltily around the room at all the faces staring back at her.

‘It’s Neal’ she said as she stood and moved over to the kitchen to take the call while everyone else grew silent.

‘Hi’ she said, trying to sound cheerful. ‘All done at the school?’

‘Yeah’ came Neal’s voice. ‘I was wondering if you and Liam want to meet up for lunch. I thought we could head over to the hospital afterwards and spend some time with Hope. Cam’s going to need a break - he’s probably been there since last night.’

Sara’s eyes glanced up to find Cameron sitting in the Burke living room; deceiving her husband was harder than she’d thought.

‘Sara?’ Neal said. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Liam’s just… trying on a few things’ she fibbed as she turned away so she wouldn't be confronted with the probing gazes of her co-conspirators.

‘So, is that a yes on lunch?’ Neal asked again.

‘Hum, we’re gonna be a little while yet. Why don't we just meet up with you at the hospital?’ she suggested.

‘Okay’ Neal answered, sounding so normal. ‘You sure you’re okay?’

‘Yeah, yeah…’ Sara said as guilt grew in the pit of her stomach. ‘Neal?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I love you’ she said as she felt emotion rising in her chest.

He let out a surprised chuckle. ’I love you too’ he chirped before hanging up.

Sara stood there just staring at her phone and suddenly, Marion Birch was standing next to her, hand on her arm.

‘You all right, Sara?’ she asked.

‘No… I just lied to my husband’ she stated decidedly.

‘I’m afraid it’s a necessary evil in this case’ Marion responded as she led Sara back into the living room.

Sara settled on the couch, her mind on Neal as doubt started to creep in. He'd sounded just like his old self on the phone. Maybe they were making a terrible mistake by confronting him; maybe he'd be able to deal with all this if they just gave him a little more time.

‘Do you think we’re making a big mistake?’ she blurted out to the assembled group.

‘Sara, you can’t go on like this… and neither can Neal’ Elizabeth reminded her.

‘You’re right… it’s just… Marion, what do we do next?’ Sara asked, her resolve returning.

‘Well, we need to decide when you want to meet with Neal and each of you needs to prepare for the intervention.’

‘Prepare?’ Liam asked. He was new to all this intervention stuff and he had no idea what kind of preparation was involved.

Marion sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, looking from one face to the next.

‘The purpose of the intervention is to tell Neal how much he means to you and to help him realize how his drinking is affecting him and how it affects each one of you. You need to decide what it is you want Neal to follow through on and what each of you is prepared to do if he _doesn't_ agree to get help’ Marion Birch explained.

‘The best way to do that is for each of you to put down your feelings on paper and to tell him what the consequences will be if he doesn't agree to get help. I suggest you put it in letter form - like a letter to Neal. That way you won’t forget what you want to say and Neal can re-read your letters at a later time. It might help him stay on track when things get difficult for him.’

‘What are we asking him to agree to?’ Sara asked.

‘That’s up to all of you. Sara, you told me you would like Neal to commit to therapy and possibly a twelve step program. That sounds very reasonable. Not everyone who abuses alcohol needs to go to rehab - that depends on the individual. And in Neal’s case, his dependence is fairly recent and it’s in direct response to a traumatic event in his life. I agree with you that a helpful first step in this case would be therapy - with me, if he’s comfortable but we can give him some control over the details of the treatment. The important thing is that he needs to realize that if he doesn't agree to get treatment, there’ll be consequences and that you’re ready to go all the way.’

She stared at the worried faces around the room; tough love was a bitch and telling the person you loved that you were no longer prepared to continue to enable their self destructive behaviour was a difficult thing to do.

‘It’s essential that you be willing to follow through on any consequences you set out for him’ Marion reminded them. ‘No empty threats.’

‘Like what?’ Liam asked.

‘Well, let’s talk about it. It has to be something that you’re able to follow through on and that will have an impact on Neal and motivate him to get the help he needs.’

‘You mean like… me telling him that if he doesn't get help, he has to leave the house?’ Sara asked.

‘Are you prepared to do that? For example, you _could_ tell Neal that if he doesn't agree to see me three times a week, he has to leave the house and he can only come back when he’s ready to commit. You need to be very specific or he’ll just weasel his way out.’

Sara’s face tightened; threatening to kick Neal out of his own home seemed so drastic, yet it had come to this.

‘Sara, only _you_ can decide what those consequences are. Just remember that if there are _no_ consequences to Neal’s actions, his behaviour is not likely to change.’

Sara nodded and wiped her eyes. ‘I don't want him in the house if he's not willing to get help’ she stated as El brought her arm around her shoulder.

‘Peter, what about you?’ Marion asked, turning to him.

Peter looked pensive; this was his best friend and he hated the thought of putting any kind of condition on their friendship. ‘I can't very well keep him out of his own gallery but… if Neal doesn't get the help he needs, I’m prepared to stop spending time with him outside of work.’

Marion nodded. ‘What about you, Liam?’

‘Dad and I love to watch sports together and he loves to come to my basketball practices and games. But I don’t want him there if… if things don’t change.’

‘I suggest you all give this some thought. I’m available if you want to discuss it. Just make certain you’re willing and able to follow through. Neal is a very intelligent man and if he thinks he can play one of you off the other or play the sympathy card, he won’t hesitate to do it in his present condition’ Marion warned.

‘But how do we get him to come? He’ll feel trapped if he thinks we’re all ganging up on him’ Peter commented; he knew his best buddy better than anyone else.

‘Who do you think would have the best chance of getting through to him?’ Marion asked.

‘Hope’ Peter and Sara said simultaneously.

‘But she’s in no fit state to talk to him at the moment’ El reminded everyone.

‘And I really don’t want her involved in this. She’s got enough to deal with as it is’ Sara added as an afterthought. ‘I feel like it _should_ be me but… I don’t know… I’m too close to the situation. I feel like the best thing I can do right now is keep him… safe until this is all over.’

‘I’ll do it’ Peter spoke up as El frowned. ‘I’ll find a way to explain it to him… try to convince him.’

‘What if he doesn't want to come?’ Liam asked, worried.

‘Well, that’s the risk we’re taking by giving him a heads up’ Marion explained. ’You’re sure you don't want to just get him there and _then_ confront him?’

‘No, I can’t do that to him’ Sara said, her voice decisive.

‘Sara’s right. Neal will just run if he feels cornered’ Peter added in agreement.à‘So, are you all willing to go all the way with this?’ Marion asked as she stared at all the stunned faces around the room.

She watched as everyone nodded.

‘Where do we do this?’ El asked. ‘You’re more than welcome to have it here if you want.’

Marion smiled and shook her head. ‘No. It’s important to do it somewhere neutral that Neal doesn't associate with other memories - good or bad. If he’s too familiar with the setting, he might retreat to a nearby room in avoidance. I have access to a private space where we can do it.’

‘Is it wheelchair accessible?’ came Linda’s voice over the phone.

‘It is’ Marion confirmed.

‘How soon do we do it?’ Liam asked.

‘As soon as you’re all ready. It sounds like things aren't getting any better so how about you take a week to prepare and we can have a brief meeting before we invite Neal in. Let’s aim for next Saturday. What time of day is Neal more likely to be sober and in control?’ Marion asked.

‘Mornings are best’ Sara said, her voice soft.

‘Next Saturday morning it is’ Marion said as the meeting wrapped up.

She could see the pain and doubt in Sara’s eyes and she walked over to give her a hug. ‘Are you sure you’re ready to do this? We can’t do this halfway.’

Sara nodded, unable to speak, and suddenly both Peter and Liam appeared on either side of her, both of them bringing their arms around her shoulders in a show of support.

‘We’ll do it together’ Peter said as Sara gave him a weak smile.

WCWCWC

Neal strolled by the nurses station, nervously eyeing the staff behind the desk. His little spectacle the previous afternoon would not have gone unnoticed but he was relieved to find that, except for a couple of friendly waves, his arrival wasn't attracting any unwanted attention. He was sober-ish - not as sober as a judge, exactly - but he hadn't had another sip since he’d gotten on the train earlier and he was determined to keep a steady hand and a clear mind while he spent some precious time with his daughter.

As he always did, he stopped outside Hope’s room and peeked in, anxious to get a feel for her state of mind before entering into her personal space. He glanced down at the bag containing the purchases he'd just made at their friend Sam Jordan’s art supply store, smiling in satisfaction.

He was surprised to find that Cameron was nowhere in sight and he stared at Hope’s sleeping form through the half open door for a moment before daring to step in and disturb her peaceful slumber. He walked quietly towards her bed and brought a chair closer, placing his purchases on the floor beside him. The scars along the side of Hope’s face were fading, a lot less visible now that a couple of months had passed; she would need additional surgery at some point in the future but at the moment, that was the least of their worries. She slept, her face serene, her hands perfectly still and folded on her chest and her dark, thick hair fanned out around her head like a halo against the stark white pillowcase.

If life hadn't so rudely intruded, she’d be coming back home for the summer months right about now, getting ready to teach at the art school and preparing to put in endless hours at the gallery. She’d be going out on weekends with her friends, spending lots of time with Cam and dropping by the house unexpectedly for dinner or just to hang out in the studio with her dad, a ritual he absolutely delighted in. Instead, she had weeks and months of physical therapy ahead of her as she tried to regain a semblance of the life she’d left behind and Neal was overcome with guilt once again at his unwitting part in her sad predicament.

Hope’s eyes fluttered open and instantly a smile appeared on her lips as she saw her loving dad gazing down at her.

‘Hey, sweet pea. Didn't mean to wake you’ he said as he brought his hand up to touch her hair.

She shook her head no, the smile lingering on her lips as Neal’s face lit up.

‘You looked so peaceful’ he added as she remained silent. ‘Cam’s not here?’

’N-n-n-’ she attempted as he brought his finger to her lips.

‘It’s okay, you don’t have to talk…’ he whispered, gearing up for his apology. He wanted nothing more than for her to get back on her feet and yet, his reprehensible actions the previous day, might have inadvertently set her back on her long, arduous road to recovery.

‘Mom and Liam are coming over soon but… well, I was hoping I’d have a few minutes alone with you before they got here’ Neal admitted.

His eyes fell in shame and he took her hand, the beautiful solitaire ring shining on her third finger, a constant reminder of the life she had been planning before the horrific accident.

‘Yesterday, I… I don’t know what came over me. There’s no excuse for the way I behaved and I’m… well, I’m really sorry I upset you’ he said as his eyes came up to meet hers.

Surprisingly, she was still smiling, forgiveness obvious in her eyes and her hand left his to move to his face, just as June had done earlier and she ran her hand gently down her dad’s cheek.

‘K’ she said breathlessly as Neal’s eyes filled with tears.

‘It’s really not, honey’ he said, his voice choked. ‘I upset you and… believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do. I’m… I’m not doing so well these days but I promise to try harder… for Mom and for you and Liam.’

Hope’s face grew serious as she took in the state of her dad, the man who could do no wrong in her eyes and who'd stood by her her whole life. Neal could see tears forming in her eyes and he let out a choked laugh.

‘Now I’m upsetting you all over again’ he said as she smiled back at him through the tears.

’N-n-n-o!’ she said emphatically putting her finger up in a silent request for him to wait and let her speak.

‘Not ….s-s-s-set’ she managed to say.

Neal shook off the melancholy and let his eyes fall to his feet.

‘I got you a little something’ he said as he pulled out a large drawing pad and a brand new set of pastels. ‘Thought you might like to draw… if you’re up to it, that is’ he added as Hope’s eyes lit up.

‘Oh, and guess what. When I went to Sam’s store, one of his staff told me that Lydia’s gone into labour. That means Bibi’s going to be a big sister any minute now’ he said as Hope smiled back and nodded.

Hope looked down at the gift from her dad, admiring the high end choice he’d made and she hesitated for a moment before handing him the box of pastels.

‘What? You want _me_ to draw something?’ he asked as he searched her eyes.

She brought her hand to her chest, tapping gently as Neal stared back. There wasn't much good happening in his life these days and he'd all but abandoned painting after finishing the dark, brooding rendition of the accident and stashing it away in his studio.

‘I don’t know, honey… I haven't felt much like drawing lately…’ he said tentatively as she pushed the box insistently into his hand.

‘P-p-l-ease’ she pleaded as Neal swallowed hard.

Although his heart wasn't in it, he couldn't bring himself to refuse her wishes and Neal reluctantly opened the box and reached for a pastel as Hope’s smile returned.

TBC


	40. Chapter 40

‘You’re being awfully quiet’ Sara said as she navigated traffic.

Liam shrugged; he’d always been a man of few words.

‘I know it’s hard but I really think we’re doing the right thing’ she added in response to his silence.

‘But this is Dad we’re talking about’ he finally blurted out, staring out the window. ‘I don't want to hurt him. And what if he can never forgive us for doing this?’

Sara sighed and glanced over at her son. He was such a gentle soul, so much like his dad in that regard and she hated to see him all torn up about this. Confronting Neal about how his drinking was affecting all of them was going to be heart wrenching for everyone involved but it had to be done - sooner rather than later.

‘Your dad is caught up in something he can’t control any more and he needs us to help him out of this mess. As hard as that is, that’s exactly what we’re going to do’ Sara said as he nodded.

‘I know, Mom… but I don’t have to _like_ it’ he muttered under his breath.

Sara stared ahead; this situation was ripping her family apart at a time when they should all be pulling together and celebrating the fact that Hope was getting better and stronger every day.Now, the focus had shifted to Neal and she was terrified that they wouldn’t be able to bring him back from the brink.

‘How are things with you and Cody?’ she asked, electing to change the subject.

She spied a small smile on his lips; at least something was going well in the young man’s life.

‘Good’ he said, as always, not giving much away.

Typical teenager, Sara thought. ‘Why don't you invite him over for dinner tomorrow night? We’ll get Dad to make lasagna - that’s his favour rite, right?’

‘I suppose…’ Liam said, sounding unsure.

‘Are you worried about how your dad might behave?’ Sara asked, surmising the real reason for his lack of enthusiasm.

He shrugged in response.

‘C’mon Liam. It might help him if he has something to focus on. I was thinking of inviting your uncle Peter and aunt Elizabeth, too.’

‘And Uncle Moz?’ he asked, sounding hopeful.

‘Sure, if you want…’ she answered.

A little normalcy would do them all a world of good and surrounding Neal with people who loved him couldn't help but remind him that he was not alone in his struggle.

She watched Liam’s face brighten up as he took out his phone and started to text.

At least there was still _something_ that could put a smile on her young son’s face.

WCWCWC

Hope sat up in bed as Neal stared down at the blank sheet of paper, preparing to sketch her, something he hadn't done in a very long time. She forced a smile and he could see she was tired but making an effort - for his sake, no doubt. He placed the sketch pad and the box of pastels on the table by the bed and leaned in closer, murmuring in her ear.

‘Honey, why don’t you take a little nap first and we can do this later’ he suggested, in an effort at deflection. The truth was, his hands were shaking so badly, he couldn't hold a pencil to save his life, let alone produce something meaningful on paper. 

He’d been holding back for a while now and realized he needed to have a couple of stiff belts of whisky if he was going to keep functioning for the next few hours. Conning his daughter, as sad as it was, was just a means to an end. He stood and kissed her forehead.

‘I’m going to go get a cup of coffee and let you rest and when I come back, you better be ready to pose, because I need my muse in tip top shape’ he said with a wink and all the Caffrey charm he could muster.

Hope wasn't fooled by his attempt at deflection yet she smiled as she watched him leave the room. She knew her mom and Cameron were trying to shield her from what had really been happening at home but she’d been a witness to his meltdown the previous day and there was no denying her dad was in big trouble. 

There was only one person who could give her the straight goods on how bad things _really_ were and she hoped he’d be visiting really soon.

WCWCWC

Neal stepped out of Hope’s hospital room and let out a painfully slow breath; he hated not being in total control of his body’s responses. But most of all, he hated lying to his daughter with whom he’d spent his whole life building an honest and meaningful relationship. He ducked into the nearby men’s room and immediately entered a stall, taking a load off his shaking legs as he grabbed for his flask and gulped down a tentative swig. The sudden, uncoordinated movement caused the liquid to dribble down his chin as Neal cursed.

‘Damn it’ he muttered as he wiped the dribble from his chin with the back of his hand. So much for waiting _too_ long before responding to his body’s increasingly urgent demands.

Trying to monitor the frequency and quantity of booze he needed to get by was becoming a challenge as time went on - or was it just that he needed more alcohol to remain in control these days? He made a mental note to try to better gauge his intake; after all, he’d promised both Peter and Sara that he would try to keep his consumption in check during the day. The last thing he wanted was to put on a spectacle like he'd done the previous day, making himself vulnerable to the judgement of all those around him.

He took another couple of large gulps and tucked the flask back into its hiding place, feeling the warmth immediately start to envelop him. He made his way to the sink and began washing his hands and face, not really recognizing the reflection staring back at him in the mirror. It hurt too much to linger and he immediately averted his eyes, feeling a sense of doom and shame - although he was fully aware that that vacant look on his face was what everybody else saw when they looked at him.

He walked towards the men’s room door, holding it open for a newcomer and he managed to paste on a phoney conman smile for the stranger as he stepped out into the hospital corridor, walking straight into his son.

‘Liam!’ he called out as the young man eyed him suspiciously - or was that just Neal’s imagination.

‘Hey Dad!’ answered the teen.

‘Where’s your mom?’ Neal asked, searching the hallway behind him with his eyes - he could feel his whole body betraying him, telegraphing the real purpose of his little visit to the men’s room.

‘She’s parked out front. Lydia had her baby and she wants you two to go over to Lenox Hill and visit. You’re supposed to go down and meet her’ Liam said, avoiding his dad’s gaze - he was hiding something too and suddenly, he couldn't look his father in the eye for fear of being found out.

‘Okay…’ Neal said as he adjusted his trajectory and turned towards the exit. ‘Do you want to tell Hope I had to go?’

Liam nodded and Neal could feel the tension radiating off the young man.

‘You okay, buddy?’ he asked as he touched his arm.

‘Yeah, yeah. You better get going, Mom’s in a no parking zone and you know how she gets…’ Liam explained, eager to get away from his dad’s probing gaze.

‘All right. We’ll pick you up in a couple of hours’ Neal said as he headed for the elevator.

He had an afterthought and turned again, facing his son. ‘Did you get a lot of stuff?’ he asked.

‘What?’ Liam frowned; he had no idea what his dad was talking about.

‘Shopping… did you buy a lot of stuff?’ he repeated - something was definitely off and Neal felt like he was the only one who wasn't in on some deep, dark secret.

‘Nawww’ Liam answered, trying to think fast; conning his dad was definitely not a part of his repertoire.

‘All right, buddy. See you later’ said Neal as he gave his son a wave.

Something was up and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

WCWCWC

‘She’s beautiful!’ Sara exclaimed as she held the newborn in her arms.

‘Good job!’ Neal added, patting Sam Jordan on the back.

Lydia sat up in her hospital bed, looking blissfully happy yet exhausted. It had been an intense, albeit short labor and she was happy to have it all behind her and to finally have her second daughter safely in her arms.

‘I want Uncle Neal!’ Beatrice complained as she tried to squirm out of her dad’s grasp and into her godfather’s outstretched arms.

‘Come here munchkin!’ Neal said as he reached out for her. ‘So, how do you like your baby sister?’

‘She’s bald!’ the three-year-old exclaimed as everyone burst out laughing.

Neal tickled her and watched as she melted into giggles. ‘ _You_ were bald too when you were born. I was there that night.’

Sara and Lydia exchanged knowing looks. Beatrice had been born in the conference room at Sterling Bosch a little over three years earlier following a hostage situation in the insurance company’s recovery room. It had been a stressful birth but you’d never know it when you looked at little Beatrice Sara Jordan or, as her godfather liked to call her, ‘Bibi’. She was a happy, well adjusted little girl with curly sandy blond hair, blue eyes and deep dimples that appeared whenever she smiled.

‘Any names yet?’ Sara asked as the baby began to fuss in her arms.

The parents looked at each other in silence; Sara had obviously hit a nerve.

‘Well, Sam likes Amy but I prefer Chloe’ Lydia answered as she took her baby daughter in her arms and brought her to her breast.

Neal nodded. ‘What do _you_ think Bibi?’ he asked of the child who was squirming in his arms.

‘I want to call her Chirp!’ she called out with a giggle.

‘Chirp?’ Neal repeated with a frown.

‘It’s from a show she watches on TV’ Sam explained as he tried unsuccessfully to pull the child out of her godfather’s arms.

‘Come on, sweetie. Give your Uncle Neal a break’ he admonished as she began to whine.

‘Noooo. I want to go to Uncle Neal’s house. I want to see Hope and Caitlin’ she moaned.

Sara and Neal looked at each other and smiled sadly. ‘Well, Hope’s not home tonight but you could come over to our house for dinner. You can even sleep over if you want’ Sara offered as Neal gave them all a polite smile.

At any other time, having Beatrice over for dinner was one of the highlights of his week but now, all he could think about was how he was going to carry on with his new routine with her in the house. She hadn't slept over since Hope’s accident and he’d have to remain relatively sober in order to take care of her - unless, he deferred to Sara, something she would probably not appreciate under the circumstances.

‘Sure’ Neal said, with restrained enthusiasm. ‘If your mom and dad say it’s okay.’

‘Say yes, Daddy, say yes’ the child screamed with glee.

He looked over at his exhausted wife as she nursed their newborn and sighed. ‘How can we possibly say no.’

‘Great!’ Neal said with false enthusiasm as Beatrice cheered. ‘You want spaghetti for dinner?’

WCWCWC

‘D-d-da-a-a-d?’ Hope asked when she was finally alone with her brother.

‘What about him?’ Liam responded although he knew damn well what she was asking.

Hope struggled with trying to say a few words then gave up, grunting loudly. She grabbed for a plastic cup from the nearby table and threw it across the room in an uncharacteristic show of frustration as she gave Liam a dirty look. Her mind was growing sharper and clearer every day and she couldn't understand why other parts of her body, namely her mouth, were still not fully with the program.

‘Fine, fine. I’ll tell you’ Liam said as he retrieved the cup and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

‘We had a meeting over at Uncle Peter’s house. We’re preparing an intervention for Dad’ he admitted.

She gave her brother a questioning look which he easily deciphered.

‘Yeah, _sort of like_ on television…’ Liam responded to her puzzled look.

She shook her head violently; obviously not agreeing with the tactic.

‘Don’t worry. Everybody knows Dad would freak out if we tried to trick him into coming’ he said as Hope began to relax. ‘Uncle Peter’s going to try to convince him to come of his own free will.’

Hope looked at her brother, eyes sad. She knew they were all hiding things from her when it came to Neal and she wasn't having any of it. Although she was struggling with her speech, her mind was more and more alert and her thoughts were clear; if there was some way she could help, nothing was going to stand in her way.

‘T-t-t-’ she attempted before letting out a guttural groan of sheer frustration. ‘T-t-t-tell me!’ she shrieked as Liam’s eyes grew.

‘Calm down, sis’ he said as he got closer and brought his arm up in order to hold her down.

‘I’ll tell you…. everything. Just… promise you won’t get upset’ he said as he searched her eyes.

‘I told you… after the accident, Dad started staying up late and drinking. Well, now he gets drunk pretty well every night and Mom has to practically carry him up to bed.’

Hope listened as her baby brother spoke, her face sad. She knew her dad had been drinking but she had no idea it was quite this bad.

‘And now, he’s drinking during the day. Mom won’t even let him drive the car… He even showed up at school to pick me up after he’d been drinking and Mom had a cow’ he added.

In for a penny, in for a pound Liam thought as he continued. ‘I think he was drinking just now when I caught him coming out of the men’s room. It was written all over his face.’

Hope put her hand out and feigned shaking.

‘Yeah, I noticed that too. He shakes and then he disappears somewhere and when he comes back, he seems fine.’

He studied his sister’s face and he felt guilty for opening up to her. ‘Mom would kill me if she knew I was telling you all this, you know.’

Hope gave him a big grin and pulled him into her arms, hugging him as Liam squirmed. He wasn't much of a hugger at the best of times but after a few seconds, he gave in. The siblings held each other for a moment, drawing strength from one another. They would need to stick together if they were going to get through the next little while.

TBC


	41. Chapter 41

‘More!’ Beatrice demanded as she bounced up and down on her chair.

Raffie let out a sharp bark at the unfamiliar shriek and little Bea giggled madly as the dog came over to lay at her feet.

‘I _beg_ your pardon?’ Neal responded playfully, giving her an admonishing glare.

The toddler immediately settled down and glanced up at her godfather, batting her big blue eyes at him. She gave him a winning smile before adding ‘Pleeeease, can I have some more!’

Caitlin and Liam chuckled at her overly exuberant reaction to the everyday spaghetti and meatballs they’d enjoyed so many times in the past.

‘You really _do_ love spaghetti, don’t you?’ Neal asked rhetorically as he scooped another small portion onto the child’s plate and watched her nod enthusiastically.

‘Mommy doesn’t make meatballs’ she asserted, her mouth already full.

‘Awww’ Sara answered. ‘That’s _why_ you love Uncle Neal’s spaghetti so much, because of the meatballs.’

She gave her husband a warm smile; at moments like this, everything seemed so normal and so… right. They could easily be forgiven for momentarily forgetting they were smack dab in the middle of a major family crisis. She was almost instantly reminded of their current circumstance when Neal reached for his glass of wine and downed it in one large gulp, making Sara cringe in the process.

Neal’s eyes fell on her scrutinizing gaze and he cleared his throat. Was it his imagination or was Sara monitoring just how much he was drinking?

‘So, any plans for tonight?’ he asked the two teens, hoping to draw attention away from himself.

‘I’m going to the movies’ Caitlin declared as she checked the time. ‘Actually, I have to leave in about ten minutes if I’m going to make it.’

As usual, Liam sat, quietly eating away. ‘What about you, honey?’ Sara asked. ‘What are you up to tonight?’

‘Cody and I are going to hang out at his place. Can I get a ride over?’ he asked his dad without thinking, briefly losing sight of the fact that his dad had recently been banned from operating heavy machinery.

‘I can take you over’ Sara declared, without missing a beat.

Neal looked down at his plate in silence; it was totally demeaning, to say nothing of humiliating, to be treated like a child in his own home, by his own wife.

Sara could only imagine how Neal might be feeling about her constant nagging and, whether it was coincidence or not, she observed as he stood and made his way over to the wine rack. Without paying her any mind, he proceeded to open a second bottle of the Italian red they’d been having and he poured himself another hefty glassful.

He turned his attention to little Bea, deliberately ignoring Sara’s stare.

‘After dinner, I thought you and I could go down to my studio together’ he suggested as Beatrice began bopping up and down on her chair once more.

‘Yeeess’ she squealed in response. ‘Can I paint?’

‘Of course you can paint’ Neal said with a wide grin.

She’d only been down in the studio on a couple of occasions but she loved having her uncle Neal’s undivided attention and he always had plenty of fun things for her to do down there.

Sara observed Neal as he returned to the table and took another large sip of wine, reaching over for a slice of garlic bread and biting into it heartily.

‘And…’ he added as he ruffled the child’s hair ‘…I have some new markers for you.’

Sara’s mind flashed to all those years ago and suddenly, Hope was sitting there, enjoying what was still her favourite meal and imitating her dad’s every move. How the years had passed… and now, here was little Beatrice who, like Hope before her, worshipped Neal and wanted to be just like him. It was an awesome responsibility and she hoped Neal was up to the challenge.

WCWCWC

The house was quiet once again when Neal and Beatrice finally made it down to the basement. The studio was a magical place for a three year old. It had paintings in various stages of completion, some sculptures and tons of paintbrushes, paints and various other mediums with which to create wonderful works of art.

While Neal set up some paper and water based paints on the work table, Beatrice roamed around the room, stopping in front of a half finished sculpture - a bust of someone she didn't recognize.

‘Who did _this_?’ she asked as Neal came to stand beside her.

‘That’s Caitlin’s’ Neal explained. ‘She hasn't finished it yet. It’s a sculpture of my mom.’

‘You have a mom?’ the three year old bellowed, shocked to find out that even someone as ancient as her uncle Neal had a mommy of his own.

‘Everybody has a mom’ Neal said as he crouched down to see things from her point of view.

‘Is she old like my grandma Darla?’ she asked, suddenly curious.

‘She _is_ old but I love her very much’ Neal said, his thoughts turning to the woman he’d been avoiding for a couple of weeks.

He missed her and he'd have to try to find a way to make it up to her when… whenever he managed to finally get things under control. He shook off the nostalgia and pointed to the table where he’d set up a variety of paints and markers for his goddaughter to work with.

‘You want some help getting up on that stool?’ he asked as he put his arms out to help her.

‘Uncle Neeeeal! I’m three and a quarter years old’ she reminded him with the help of her outstretched fingers.

‘Okay’ he answered with a laugh, watching as she skillfully hoisted herself up on the stool and looked down on the treasures her uncle had laid out for her.

Beatrice came by her love of the arts honestly. Her dad owned an art supply store and she had plenty of opportunity to create works of art at home. But visiting her uncle Neal’s studio was magical. It was a room set up for just for this purpose, where she was free to get down and messy and her godfather never got upset if she got paint on her clothes or had the odd accident.

Neal kept one eye on the child and moved to the cupboard where he kept his secret stash, reaching in for the bottle of scotch and a glass he kept there. He was feeling pretty mellow from the wine he'd had at dinner and even though he was determined to stay on this side of incoherently drunk, it wouldn't hurt to have a couple of scotches while they worked. He downed the first shot and filled his glass again, setting in down behind his easel as his eyes returned to the child nearby, tongue sticking out from between her teeth as she concentrated on her work of art.

Having Beatrice in his life was a wonderful opportunity to relive all those amazing years he'd had with Hope as he'd watched her grow into a competent young woman and a gifted artist in her own right. He’d been a witness to all those years as Hope grew in maturity and talent and watching Bibi sitting there was like flicking a switch and returning to the past - a time when everything had been so simple.

His eyes returned to his current piece which he’d barely made a dent in; his heart hadn't been in it since the accident and his feeble attempt a drawing Raffie as he lay out on the back deck seemed lifeless and doomed to be relegated to the recycle pile. His eyes roamed around the room and he was reminded of the small easel Peter had built for Hope over fifteen years earlier. He’d stashed it away in a corner of the room and he stood to retrieve it; it was time to give it new life now that Beatrice was going to be a regular visitor to his studio.

It had been banished to a cluttered corner of the room and Neal made his way over, moving canvases and other paraphernalia in order to reach it. It was time to put this fine old easel back to good use, he thought as he lifted it and turned to make his way back to his goddaughter.

Bibi had moved from where she’d been sitting and he spotted her behind his easel, eyes wide as she admired his failed attempt up close. He watched in horror as her eyes wandered and before he could react, she’d reached for the glass he’d hidden there, barely giving it a second look as she brought the glass to her lips.

‘Bibi! NO!’ he screamed as he watched her down the contents of his glass in one large gulp.

She immediately sputtered, choking on the nasty tasting drink and she began to spit out some of the liquid she’d obviously mistaken for something other than the eight year old scotch it was.

She began coughing, scotch dribbling down the front of her clothes as she started to cry in reaction to the unfamiliar warmth caused by the alcohol as it made its way down her throat. Neal dropped the easel, not reacting to the cracking noise he heard as it hit the ground and he ran over to where the child stood, still sputtering and trying to start breathing again.

‘Bibi, are you all right?’ he asked needlessly as he watched the child he adored cough and spittle, trying to recover from having ingested an unknown quantity of scotch.

She stood there wavering as she began to bawl loudly.

‘Nooooo’ she wailed as he scooped her up in his arms to console her.

He carried her urgently up the stairs, arriving in the kitchen and sitting her up on the kitchen counter while he reached for a glass of water and held it for her to take a sip, between sobs and wails.

‘I thought it was apple juice’ she finally whimpered as she caught her breath.

‘No, honey, it wasn’t’ Neal said. ‘It’s… it was a grownup drink.’

She looked up at her uncle, eyes full of tears. ‘Like… coffee?’ she asked, her face innocent as she continued sobbing.

Neal laughed softly. ‘Sort of… like coffee’ he admitted.

‘It hurt my throat’ she moaned as she put her arms out to be comforted.

‘Here, let’s get you some orange juice to take the bad taste away’ he suggested as he carried her over to the refrigerator and pulled out the jug of juice.

She wiped her eyes and looked up at Neal, her face red from having just about choked - or perhaps from having ingested some forty proof liquor. The front of her clothes was wet, a telltale sign of what had just happened and Neal was grateful Sara hadn't returned from driving Liam over to his boyfriend’s place. She would be livid, as well she should, if she knew what had just transpired.

He looked down at her soiled clothes. ‘Why don't we give you a bath and take you out of those smelly clothes’ he suggested as he carried the child towards the stairs.

‘But I wanted to paint…’ she whimpered as she began to recover.

‘I know, honey. If you’re not too tired we’ll go back down afterwards - or we can do it in the morning’ he suggested as she began to cry in disappointment.

‘Oh, Bibi, please don’t cry’ he pleaded as he held her against him, feeling like a total jerk for being the root cause of her distress.

Once upstairs, he ran her a bath and began observing her. How much alcohol had she actually ingested? And how dangerous was that for a kid her age? He figured he’d poured at least three ounces into his glass and it had been empty by the time she’d chugged it down although a fair amount had found its way onto her chest as she’d choked on it. He cursed himself for having turned his back on her for a brief second; how could he ever face Lydia and Sam again after breaking the unwavering trust they had in him. And Sara… she would be _so_ upset if she knew what had happened in her absence.

He got the child undressed and set her down gently in the tub, taking out the basket of toys they kept nearby for her regular visits.

‘You want your rubber duckie?’ he asked as he continued observing her.

Her face was flushed but she seemed otherwise unaffected by the alcohol. Neal stood and ran to the bedroom to get the laptop, immediately returning and settling down on the toilet next to her as he fired up his favourite search engine. _How much alcohol is needed_ _to harm a child?_ he typed in as his eyes returned to the toddler who appeared to be reasonably happy playing with a plastic frog in the tub. His eyes widened as he went from one website to another, reading sometimes conflicting information on a phenomenon that appeared all too common - sadly.

His eyes returned to Beatrice as he studied her movements, smiling as she began to sing softly.

‘I’m back!’ he heard in the distance as he closed the laptop precipitously.

‘Upstairs!’ he called back. ‘I’m giving Bibi a bath.’

‘Uncle Neal’ Beatrice moaned. ‘My head hurts.’

‘Oh, baby. That happens sometimes after you’ve cried a lot’ he said by way of explanation - a partial explanation at best.

He spied her clothes lying nearby and scooped them up in order to hide the incriminating evidence of his gaffe. Sara was a first rate investigator and if she smelled the scotch on the child’s clothing, she might piece together what had happened and Neal just couldn't deal with any more grief.

‘Auntie Sara hates it when I bring food or drinks down to the studio’ he said, crafting an out and out lie. ‘Let’s not tell her about what happened, okay? It’ll be out little secret.’

Beatrice looked up at him, her eyes red from crying. It seemed like a strange request but she’d do just about anything for the man who was sitting there, looking expectantly at her.

‘Okay… can you read me Goodnight Moon?’ she asked.

‘Of course I can’ Neal agreed readily as he stuffed her clothing into a plastic bag.

‘There you are!’ Sara said as she appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, crouching down to give her goddaughter a peck on the head.

She glanced at Neal, happy to see him so in control of things.

‘Everything all right?’ she asked.

‘Of course’ he said as he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. The faint smell of scotch hit her nostrils, unfortunately nothing new and she wondered when he'd possibly found the time to have a drink.

WCWCWC

Neal did the honours, putting Bibi to bed and reading her a few books, all the while observing her closely. Except for her complaints about having a headache, she looked perfectly fine, no sign of intoxication as he'd feared and she finally fell asleep in his arms, right around the time Neal was saying goodnight to the three little bears sitting on chairs. He tucked her in and kissed her forehead, secretly thankful that no harm had come to his beloved goddaughter despite what could only be described as blatant negligence on his part.

He stepped out into the hallway, noticing Sara was already in bed reading and he was about to sneak by and back downstairs to his favourite new pastime when she noticed him nearby.

‘Honey, why don’t you come to bed?’ she asked, hoping to break the cycle.

Neal hesitated; he could sure use a drink after all the drama he'd just endured.

‘Hum… in a minute’ he said as he plotted his escape down to the first floor.

‘Neal… please. Come here’ Sara said as she put her book down beside her.

He grudgingly stepped into the bedroom and sat down gingerly next to his wife on the edge of the bed. Had she figured something out, he wondered as he searched her eyes.

‘Why don’t you stay up here with me?’ she asked, running her hand up and down his arm in a not so subtle attempt at seduction.

He let out a loud sigh. He had to admit she did look good sitting there, all soft and warm and dewey-eyed. He could hear his friend Jack calling from downstairs and he wavered for a moment.

‘Baby, we haven't had sex since Hope’s accident’ she whispered although that was certainly not news to him.

He gave her a sad smile. ‘I know. I’m sorry… I just… my mind’s been on… other things’ he admitted as she continued to stare into his eyes.

‘Come on. Why don’t you let me give you a back rub… no pressure. Let’s just… see where it goes’ Sara suggested as she laced her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a long, languorous kiss.

He could feel himself trembling, whether is was from her loving touch or from alcohol withdrawal, he couldn't tell for sure but the voice calling him from downstairs seemed to dim somewhat and he began to respond to her kiss.

‘That’s it…’ she whispered in his ear as she pulled him down on the bed and began to unbutton his shirt. ‘All you have to do is lie there and let _me_ do all the work.’

Neal closed his eyes, letting her hypnotic voice wash over him. ‘I’ve missed you so much’ she cooed in his ear as his shirt was removed and her hands moved on to his pants.

‘Me too…’ he admitted, his voice rough.

She continued working on his belt buckle, her lips up nice and close to his ear as she moaned.

‘I’m going to make you feel so good, Caffrey’ she whispered.

‘Mmmm’ he responded, feeling himself coming alive. ‘O…kay’

Their previous, unsuccessful attempt at sex had ended badly and he'd begun to lose confidence in his abilities. Furthermore, he'd lost interest since he'd started drinking and he’d begun to wonder if he could still perform now that doubt had begun to creep in.

‘Babe…’ he moaned, tentatively. ‘I don't know if I can…’

‘It’s okay, it’s okay. Whatever…’ she murmured back.

‘I just want to hold you…’ she said as she wrapped her arms around his back, ‘Kiss you…’ she added as she brought her lips to his neck and lingered. ‘Touch you…’ she said as her hands wandered south.

Contrary to what had happened during their last failed attempt at intimacy, Neal seemed to be on board and he moved his hands up to cradle his wife’s hips and pull her up on top of him, enjoying the feel of her body pressed up against his. His hands had just moved to do away with the t-shirt she was wearing when he heard an all-too-familiar chant.

‘Uncle Neeeeaal!’ Beatrice cried out.

‘You’ve _got_ to be kidding me’ Neal muttered under his breath as he pushed Sara off him and instantly got on his feet.

TBC


	42. Chapter 42

‘I don’t think you should be holding back’ Cody said as he sat next to Liam in the family room of the Miller home.

Liam looked down again at the sheet of paper on his lap; it was covered with scribbles as he attempted over and over to find the right words to convey his fears and apprehensions to his beloved dad.

‘You don’t understand. I have to read this letter in front of everybody and it’ll just make him feel bad’ Liam complained as he ripped off the sheet of paper and wadded it up in a ball. He threw it expertly over his head and straight into the waste paper basket all the way across the room.

Cody watched with a mischievous smile. ‘That’s four out of five’ he said as Liam frowned.

He turned towards his boyfriend, giving him a playful slap across the chest. ’Stop it! This is serious.’

Cody brought his arm to rest around Liam’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring hug. ‘I know, I know. But the whole purpose of the exercise is to let your dad know how his drinking is affecting you and what changes you’re prepared to make if he doesn't agree to get help.’

Liam brought the pen up to his mouth and bit nervously on the tip as he stared down at a new, blank page. ‘The truth is… I don't want to spend time with him if he doesn't agree to get some help’ he said tentatively.

It sounded so harsh when he said the words out loud but as much as he loved his dad and enjoyed hanging out with him, he didn't want him showing up drunk at his basketball practices or interacting with Cody or any of his other friends if he wasn't sober.

‘Then, you’re going to have to tell him that’ Cody stated unequivocally. ‘If you just continue to let it slide, he's not going to have any motivation to change.’

Liam knew that was true and that he’d have to man up and speak his mind at the upcoming intervention. It made him cringe to imagine his dad sitting there, stunned and overwhelmed, as everyone he loved threatened to take action if he didn't agree to get the help he so badly needed.

‘Who _are_ you anyway, Sigmund Freud?’ Liam asked with a smirk.

‘Huh?’ the young man said. Science and math were his thing, not psychology.

Liam scoffed. ‘Never mind. What else does it say?’

Cody’s eyes returned to the sheet of paper Marion Birch had given each of them - step by step instructions on writing their letter to Neal.

‘It says to be genuine and to start with your favourite memory from before your dad started drinking’ Cody read.

‘That’s easy. My dad surprised me once with some Rangers playoff tickets for my birthday’ Liam began with a soft smile. ‘We had so much fun just hanging out together and pigging out on junk food.’

‘Actually, anytime we sit down at home to watch hockey or basketball on TV…’ he continued as he started to write. ‘…or when he comes to my practices and games… or when we’re in the car together…’

Cody smiled as he listened. It was obvious Liam loved his dad very much and he hated to see him suffering as his father continued to spiral out of control before their very eyes.

‘Sounds like you’ve got that part covered’ Cody said. ‘Then, it says to talk about your worst memory, a time when his drinking ruined something or embarrassed you.’

Unfortunately, there were increasingly more such episodes lately and Liam let out a loud sigh as he thought of his dad showing up at school with alcohol on his breath and barging into Hope’s hospital room on his birthday, stinking drunk. He jotted down a few thoughts and turned back to Cody who was studying him carefully.

‘It says to make sure you tell him that you understand that this is a disease and to ask him to get help’ Cody explained as Liam took notes.

‘What does it say again about the ultimatum?’ Liam asked. To his mind, that was the hardest part, giving his dad an ultimatum.

‘It says: ‘ _Though the hope is that you won’t have to follow through on this, it’s important that you be able to tell your loved one that if they refuse to get help then, you’re prepared to … If they don’t get help, you’ll have to follow through on what you said would happen if they didn’t, whether it’s moving out, filing for divorce or refusing to see them anymore.’_

‘See, that’s where it gets tough. I love my dad. Threatening to stop spending time with him is as much of a punishment for me as it is for him.’

Cody watched Liam struggle and he squeezed his shoulder, staring him right in the eye.

‘The question is, are you prepared to do what it takes to help him get better no matter how hard it is?’

WCWCWC

By the time Neal ran the few feet from his own bedroom into Caitlin’s room, Beatrice’s moans had morphed into sobs and he turned the corner to find the toddler sitting up in bed, surrounded by one huge mess. She had thrown up, the front of her pyjamas soiled and the bedsheets totally ruined.

‘Bibi… honey!’ he called out as he swept in to scoop her up in his arms.

‘I throwed up’ she shrieked rather unnecessarily as she grabbed onto his neck and pulled insistently.

‘Oh baby, I’m sorry’ Neal whispered just as Sara stepped in to see what all the ruckus was about.

‘Oh, my God!’ she called out as she spied the mess.

She exchanged worried looks with Neal and gagged as the noxious odour hit her nostrils full tilt.

‘Here, why don’t you take her and I’ll clean up this mess’ Neal offered as Sara gingerly took Bea from his arms.

She headed to the bathroom and Neal could hear Bibi’s cries as Sara sat her up by the sink and began to undress her. By the time Neal had stripped the bed and collected all the dirty bedding, Sara was standing at the bathroom door, holding up the child’s ruined pyjamas at arms’ length.

‘Here’ she said. ‘You might as well throw these into the wash too.’

Neal spied the bag with Bibi’s dirty clothes on the bathroom floor and collected them as well. Might as well get rid of the evidence while he was at it, he thought as he made his way down to the basement. He threw on a load of wash and prepared to go upstairs, slowing as he passed the door to his studio. He could run in and take a couple of gulps of his stash before he went back up, steady his nerves. No one would be the wiser.

He shook his head as if willing the thought away. What if Bibi needed him during the night? He needed to keep a clear head, especially considering the fact this was all his fault. He forced his legs to keep moving and by the time he made his way back to their bedroom, Beatrice was curled up in Sara’s arms under the cozy comforter, her wailing having been reduced to breathless sobs.

‘I told her she could sleep with us’ Sara announced as Neal nodded. Frankly, he wouldn't have it any other way.

He settled in beside them, his breathing uneven as he took stock of the situation. His precious goddaughter had been violently ill because of his negligence and he had to live with the realization that he’d acted irresponsibly.

‘Are you okay, Bibi?’ he asked as he ran his hand through her hair.

She seemed to be catching her breath and he took a moment to wipe her eyes as she stared up at him, so innocent and trusting.

‘Yes’ she said between moans. ‘I made a mess…’

‘Don’t worry about that, sweetie’ Neal said tenderly. ‘It’s not your fault.’

He looked up to see Sara gazing at him with that familiar look of endearment and affection he'd seen in her eyes so many times over the years.If she only knew how true his words were…

They lay in silence, watching as Beatrice began to fade, her breathing slowing and her eyes drifting shut as she let herself be lulled back to sleep.

Sara continued to gaze at Neal with that loving smile he'd come to know as the ‘ _honey, you’re_ _such an amazing dad_ ’ look. This was one situation when he didn't deserve such devotion and he looked away, unable to witness his unspoken lies reflected in her loving eyes.

She spoke up, whispering. ‘Do you remember the time we took Hope to the Westchester County Fair and she got sick on the ferris wheel?’

Neal couldn't hold back a chuckle. It had been one of the most embarrassing days of their lives. The couple who’d been directly beneath them as they’d waited their turn to get off had gotten the brunt of the chili dogs and fries four-year-old Hope had devoured just before stepping onto the ride with her parents.

‘I thought that guy was going to pop me right there and then’ Neal said as he recalled the incident.

‘He _did_ call security’ Sara reminded him. ‘And you slipped him a fifty dollar bill for dry-cleaning as I recall.’

‘Seventy five’ Neal corrected as he continued to run his hand over Beatrice’s hair. ‘But it was well worth it. That guy had at least fifty pounds on me.’

Sara giggled softly. At times like this, Neal seemed like his old self - funny, relaxed, sexy. She couldn't relate the man who was lying next to her to the one she’d had to lug up the stairs on one too many occasions over the past couple of months.

‘I’m proud of you honey’ she attempted, hoping she didn't sound too patronizing.

He gave her a puzzled look.

‘You got through the whole evening without giving in to… you know…’ she said as she reached over little Bea's sleeping form and ran her hand up his arm.

Neal nodded nervously; he didn't deserve any kudos for what had transpired earlier in the evening, far from it. Not only had he been drinking behind her back, he’d been the cause of his goddaughter upset stomach. He could feel his body shaking under the blankets and sense a headache coming on; no doubt a response to the stressful situation and the shortage of alcohol in his system.

Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming urge to come clean about his part in Bibi’s mishap and without giving more than a fleeting thought to the chain reaction a confession on his part would undoubtedly unleash, he spoke quietly in the still of the night.

‘Sara, this is all _my_ fault’ he blurted out.

‘Honey, you didn't exactly put a gun to her head so she’d have that third helping of spaghetti’ she responded with a soft laugh.

Neal watched her face, so trusting, and he realized how easy it would be to fall back into his old ways. His god-given ability to con those around him was a poisoned gift and despite the fact he'd worked so hard over the past twenty years to build a relationship of trust with his wife, self preservation was a powerful motivator. He wavered momentarily between coming clean or continuing to take advantage of his wife’s unwavering faith in him.

‘It wasn't the spaghetti…’ he said flatly as he looked into her trusting eyes.

‘Of course it was, Neal. What else _could_ it be?’ she asked naively.

He looked away. He couldn't turn back now and yet, he couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes when she finally learned about his part in Bibi’s misadventure.

‘While you were out…’ he began tentatively. ‘I took her down to the studio and while we were down there, I poured myself a drink.

Sara’s face grew serious; she didn't know where this was going but she didn't like the sound of it, not one little bit.

Neal seemed to change the subject and he looked up into her curious eyes in the semi-dark bedroom. ‘You remember that easel Peter built for Hope when she was two?’ he asked as she nodded vacantly.

‘Well, I thought Bibi would really enjoy using it so I went over to get it from the far corner of the room and…’

Sara listened in complete silence as Neal struggled.

‘I turned around and… she… she thought it was apple juice.’

‘No!’ Sara said a little too loudly as Beatrice stirred under Neal’s hand before immediately settling once again.

‘I swear honey, I was right there. My back was turned for just a second and… by the time I turned around, she’d chugged the whole thing down.’

‘Neal! How could you be so irresponsible?’ she said as she glared at her husband.

‘I swear, I was watching her…’

‘You left a damn drink within her reach…’ Sara admonished. ‘How much did she swallow?’

‘I don’t know…’ Neal said, his voice trailing.

‘Neal, how much?’ she repeated more urgently.

‘I don’t know…’ he reiterated, his eyes filling with tears. ‘Maybe, two… three ounces?’

‘Three ounces!’ she repeated, shocked. ‘Neal, she’s three years old!’

‘I know that Sara’ he said, trying to remain calm. ‘But now… well, she probably doesn't have any left in her stomach.’

Sara glared at him. ‘That’s no consolation Neal. It’s like saying that… only half the house burned down.’

Neal stared at her. She was justifiably angry and yet it felt strangely liberating to spill the beans and not have to carry the burden of guilt alone.

‘We have to tell Lydia and Sam’ she proclaimed, without hesitation.

‘Sara, no! Please!’ he begged. ‘Look, I went online and as horrible as it sounds, an ounce or two of alcohol doesn’t have any long term effects on a three-year-old.’

She glared at him. ‘Oh, so that makes it all right to lie to our friends? What kind of alternate universe are you living in Neal?’

He didn't have an answer for that. She was right of course but he couldn't bear the thought of their friends losing the trust he’d worked so hard to build over the years.

‘Sara, if we tell them, they’ll never trust us again. And what about Bibi?’

‘What? You’re afraid she’ll see you for who you really are? A spineless man who can’t get through the day without…’ she stopped, watching Neal’s face, totally dejected.

As angry as she was at him for what he’d done, she could tell he was mortified. Yelling at him wasn't going to change what had happened.

‘I think you should find somewhere else to sleep tonight’ she stated without emotion.

‘Honey, please…’ he began as she wrapped her arms protectively around Beatrice and resolutely closed her eyes.

‘Neal, I don't want you in bed with me. Go sleep on the couch’ she said, her voice cold and distant where moments before it had been warm and loving.

He knew that tone of voice - the one that you didn't even bother to contradict if you valued your life. He let his feet hit the floor and grabbed his pillow on the way out.

WCWCWC

The sun came up on Sunday morning as Neal lay on the couch, his body shaking and his head throbbing. Incredibly, despite not having slept a wink, he’d managed to refrain from walking the few feet into the kitchen to the not-so-secret place where he kept his bottle. That’s what had gotten him into this mess in the first place and he was determined not to give in, not when Bea would be getting up soon. He was determined to make amends for his shortcomings by making the last few hours of her visit memorable ones.

The thought of Sara ratting him out to their friends terrified him. Despite the wisdom that came with age, Neal still had a very healthy ego and he couldn't bear the thought of them looking down on him and judging him - not when he loved their little girl so much. What if Lydia and Sam decided to cut off all ties with him? He couldn't bear the thought of being separated from his beloved Bibi.

The sight of the toddler looking perfectly healthy and happy when she came downstairs gave him a modicum of hope and a whole lot of relief. They went down to the studio together and she watched as he repaired the easel which had broken when he’d dropped it the night before. He set her up with some sketching paper and some paints and she giggled as she worked. He made her favourite blueberry pancakes and served her up some chocolate milk and they sat with Liam and Caitlin, chatting amiably as if nothing had ever happened. 

Only Sara was quiet as she observed her husband, a man she wasn't even sure she knew anymore.

By noon, Sam showed up to pick up his daughter and Beatrice ran into her father’s arms, giggling as she always did.

‘Can we go see my baby?’ she shouted.

‘We’re going to go get Mommy at the hospital right now and bring her and the baby home’ he announced. ‘Did you have fun, munchkin?’

‘Uncle Neal made spaghetti! With meatballs!’ she shrieked.

‘Meatballs! You lucky girl’ Sam said with a smile.

‘But I throwed up in Caitlin’s bed’ she said, her voice serious as Neal glanced nervously at his wife.

‘Oh no!’ Sam said as looked from Neal to Sara for an explanation.

‘But she’s fine now’ Neal hastened to add with a forced smile. ‘Aren’t you, Bibi?’

The toddler nodded enthusiastically. ‘So, what happened?’ Sam Jordan asked as his eyes went from Neal to Sara.

Sara opened her mouth to speak and Neal cringed.

TBC


	43. Chapter 43

‘You’re being awfully quiet’ Elizabeth said as she and Peter sat at their dining room table, sipping coffee.

Peter looked down absentmindedly at his notes. ‘Just trying to make sure I’ve got all my arguments lined up.’

‘You really think you can pull this off?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘This is Neal we’re talking about. All bets are off. But I’m going to give it my best shot.’

Elizabeth rose to collect the breakfast dishes and glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of her husband. Peter had been working on it for hours, trying to make a case that would sway Neal and convince him to come and listen to what everyone had to say.

‘I just can’t imagine Neal agreeing to being the centre of attention while everyone takes turns listing his shortcomings and tells him what he needs to do’ Peter said, summing it up.

He looked up at his wife. ‘Can you?’

‘Well, all we can do is _our_ part…’ El said wistfully. ‘The rest is going to be up to him.’

WCWCWC

‘Thank you’ Neal said, his voice quiet as he and Sara stood side by side in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher.

‘I didn’t _do_ it for you, Neal’ Sara answered, her voice detached. ‘This is your mess. _You_ clean it up. I refuse to be the one to explain or excuse your behaviour to other people.’

Neal stared at her, eyes wide. There was something uncharacteristically cold and dispassionate in her voice, so different from the Sara he’d been in bed with the night before. They’d been a team for so many years now, watching each other’s backs and supporting each other through the tough times, no matter what. But something had changed and he shivered at the thought of being left on his own to deal with the mess he’d created.

‘And I know you. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t tell Lydia and Sam the truth. Every time you look at your precious little Bibi, you’ll remember that your relationship is built on lies’ Sara warned.

Her words sounded ominous, like a curse and Neal felt them cut through him like a knife. Somewhere deep inside, he knew she was right but he’d been living in la-la land for a while now and procrastination had become his best friend - anything he could do to put off the inevitable a little longer was just fine with him.

‘Peter called and said he was coming over’ he said, changing the subject.

‘Oh yeah?’

This was it. Peter was coming over to have _the_ talk with Neal about the intervention and Sara decided she needed to make herself scarce. She didn’t want to be around to complicate things.

‘Caitlin and I are going to head over and visit your mom’ Sara said, a decision she’d made a nano second before.

Neal nodded. He'd been avoiding his mom for days now and the truth was, he missed her. He'd moved heaven and earth to bring her to New York and now, he was staying away all because seeing her was a painful reminder that he wasn't coping very well with his life. Once again, from Neal’s warped perspective, avoidance seemed to be the way to go.

‘Tell her… I’ll be by to see her later this week’ he lied.

This is what their lives had been reduced to - lies and half truths and machinations and secret plans. How had it come to this?

WCWCWC

Neal was still smarting from Sara’s comments when he heard a knock at the front door. As disciplined as he'd been the night before, Sara’s little diatribe about him taking responsibility for his actions had pushed him right over the edge and, despite the fact it was only three in the afternoon, he was already half in the bag.

‘Hey Peter!’ he called out as he opened the door to find his best friend standing there with his hands full.

Peter sauntered in and headed straight to the back of the house. ’Hey buddy! I got us a little treat’ he called out cheerfully.

‘Oh yeah? What you got there?’ Neal asked, obviously feeling no pain.

‘I got us a couple of cronuts and some mocha lattes’ Peter replied with a flourish as he put his purchases down on the kitchen table. He couldn't help but notice the open bottle of scotch and the empty glass sitting there and he looked up at Neal.

‘You already at it?’ he asked, trying, yet failing miserably, to keep the judgement out of his voice.

Neal rolled his eyes and sat down at the table, reaching for the bottle with defiance and filling his glass.

‘Can I pour _you_ one?’ he asked as Peter shook his head.

‘Think I’ll stick with the latte’ he said.

Talking to Neal was like walking through a minefield these days. Peter never knew how his best friend was going to react to anything he said. He noticed a look of anger and bitterness in Neal’s eyes.

‘Is anything wrong?’ he asked, trying to get a sense of what was on Neal’s mind.

‘Just the everyday ups and downs of holy matrimony…’ Neal said, taking a sip of scotch and ignoring the coffee Peter had brought over.

‘You and Sara have a fight?’ he asked.

‘Fight? No, that would imply we’re actually _talking_ to each other’ Neal said with a half smile. ‘So, what brings you around on a Sunday afternoon?’

Peter took a deep breath. He wanted to ease into it. Why the hell had he signed up for this, anyway?

‘It seems I never get to see you anymore…’ he began. ‘Thought we’d catch up.’

Neal laughed, a sick, twisted kind of laugh. Everything was so screwed up and yet, here was Peter reaching out to him. It would have been kind of sweet if it hadn't been so damn sad.

‘So, how’s El?’ Neal asked, playing along.

‘She’s good. Not working nearly as much but she keeps her oar in’ Peter said, not that this was any news to his best friend. ‘What’s happening with Hope?’

‘They’re moving her over to rehab on Wednesday and we’ve got a meeting with the doctors tomorrow so they can fill us in on her latest test results’ Neal answered, his eyes faraway.

‘She’s doing good though, huh?’ Peter asked.

‘She’s going to need speech therapy and they’re going to start her walking soon’ Neal answered, his voice sad.

‘That’s _great_ news!’ Peter replied, obviously pleased.

‘I suppose…’ Neal said as he stared down at his half-empty glass, symbolic of how his life felt at the moment. ‘It still could be weeks before we bring her home.’

‘You know, everybody’s pulling for her’ Peter added. ‘… and for you.’

‘For me?’ Neal said, his eyes narrowing. He let out a cynical chuckle. ’What’s that supposed to mean?’

Peter took a sip of coffee and leaned in, making sure he had Neal’s full attention before continuing.

‘Neal, everybody’s worried about you’ he said as Neal scoffed.

‘Why? I’m fine!’ he said as he raised his glass in a salute and brought it to his lips. ‘Never better.’

‘Neal, are we going to keep playing these games? It’s me.’

Neal seemed to drop the mask momentarily and he stared down at the glass in front of him.

‘I seem to be making a mess of everything lately… my mom, Liam, Sara…’ he admitted.

‘You know, we all love you, Neal and we want you to feel… like your old self again.’

‘My _old_ self? What, you mean the guy who stood by and let a car run down his daughter in the middle of the street? _That_ guy?’ Neal railed, his voice bitter and angry.

‘No Neal! The guy who’s crazy about his wife and who would do anything for his kids and for those he loves’ Peter corrected.

Neal had totally lost sight of that guy; he wasn't even sure he still existed.

‘Don’t you think this pity party of yours has lasted long enough?’ Peter asked.

‘Ahhhh, but this little guy, here’ Neal said as he picked up the bottle of scotch and caressed it lovingly. ‘He _never_ lets me down. He doesn’t talk back, he doesn’t argue with me, doesn't lecture me or have unrealistic expectations… he’s just a very easygoing friend, accepts me as I am’ he said as he topped up his glass.

‘Oh, yeah? And does he listen when you need to talk, or give you a hug when you need one… or keep your feet warm at night?’ Peter asked, hoping he was on the right track.

‘Awww. All that shit’s overrated’ Neal answered bitterly.

Peter thought back to his list of arguments - Neal’s family was at the top of that list and if he was going to get him to start listening, he needed to play that card.

‘Sara’s really worried about you, you know’ he said. ‘She was over at our place the other day and… her heart is breaking over this Neal.’

Neal seemed to respond to that and his gaze came to rest on Peter’s deep brown eyes. ‘I miss her, too…’ he admitted.

‘She’s right here Neal. All you have to do is stop pushing her away and let her in, like you did all those years ago when you finally stopped putting up those walls of yours.’

Neal scoffed; it was true, he’d worked hard to keep Sara out in the beginning but she’d managed to bring down his defences and before he’d known what hit him, he’d already fallen desperately in love with her. Sadly, Neal worried that Sara might be lost to him and that she was slipping away for good.

‘And Hope… she needs you. _All_ the time, not just those moments when you’re…’ Peter stopped, unwilling to antagonize his best friend.

‘…when I’m sober? It’s okay Peter. You can say the words - drunk, sloshed, plastered, tanked… I won’t take offence. Let’s call it what it is.’

‘What _is_ it, then? Tell me what this does for you?’ Peter asked as he pointed to the bottle.

Neal laughed sardonically. ‘What it _does_ for me…’ he repeated. ‘Well, for one thing, it keeps all that white noise down, all that crap that keeps playing in my head when I’m sober. It makes everything… more bearable.’

‘Since when has your life become so unbearable?’ Peter asked, challenging him. ‘You have the gallery you’ve always wanted, the school, two great kids who are totally devoted to you, Caitlin’s coming along, your mom’s here after all this time and you’ve got friends who care about you and a wife who still thinks the sun shines out of your ass after twenty years of marriage.’

Neal laughed at the visual. ‘You really don’t get it, do you, Peter. It’s not about any of them… it’s about _me_. It’s about the way I feel about myself since the accident and this little guy…’ he said as he ran his hand lovingly over the bottle of scotch ‘…is the only one who doesn't judge me.’

‘Is that what you think? That we’re judging you? Because you’re way off base, buddy’ Peter said as he handed Neal the latte. ‘Why don’t you slow down a bit and have some of this?’

Surprisingly, Neal accepted the cup and took a sip as a smile crossed his face. ‘Mmmm. That _is_ good’ he admitted as Peter smiled.

‘Neal, remember when Sara got sick?’ Peter asked, another way into the difficult conversation.

Neal frowned at the question. Although it had been eons since that year from hell when Sara fought ovarian cancer, the memories from that horrible time were etched in his memory for eternity. He’d been so worried about her at the time and so scared he was going to lose her for good.

‘Remember how we used to sit around and talk about things when she wasn't there, just so we could support each other’ Peter added.

‘Yeah…’ Neal recalled, his mind miles away. ‘We didn't want to upset her by talking about it in front of her… Peter, what the hell does that have to do with anything?’

‘Well, people are worried about _you,_ now…’

Neal laughed. ‘What? So, are you telling me you guys are having secret meetings behind my back?’ he said as he searched Peter’s eyes.

Peter wasn't laughing and Neal’s face darkened at the notion that his loved ones might be discussing his predicament without his knowledge - which to a proud man like him was the epitome of betrayal.

‘Neal, it’s been hard for all of us to see you like this. Especially after that little stunt you pulled in Hope’s hospital room.’

Neal rolled his eyes; he was never going to live that down. ‘I’ve learned my lesson Peter.’

‘Have you? Because the only thing I see is you trying to hide it better’ Peter dared to say. ‘And I have to tell you, buddy, you’re not doing that great a job at it.’

Neal raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. ‘Did you really come over here to feed me all this crap?’

‘Look, even if you can’t see it right now, there _are_ ways out of this. Sara and the kids, they want to be able to talk to you about it… tell you how they feel.’

Neal was trying to follow the conversation. Peter was obviously trying tell him _something_ but with all the pussy footing around and the scotch beginning to cloud his senses, Neal wasn’t having any success figuring out what it was he’d come to say.

‘Peter, would you please stop talking in metaphors and just spit it out. You obviously came over here to tell me _something_. Now, what the hell is it?’

‘Not tell you, Neal… ask you. We’ve… we’ve set up a meeting with everybody next weekend. A chance for everybody to tell you how they feel about you… and how your drinking is affecting them.’

‘You’re fucking kidding me!’ Neal blurted out. ‘What _is_ this? Some kind of intervention?’

Peter grew quiet and the quieter he got, the more agitated Neal became. ‘You’re telling me that all of you, El, Liam, Sara, you’ve all been plotting behind my back to get me to come to some goddamn intervention?’

‘And your mom, and Cam and Mozzie…’ Peter added. No sense in keeping anything from him at this point.

‘Mozzie? Well, that’s rich’ Neal said angrily.

‘Look, Neal. We wanted to give you some time to think about it. We didn’t want to ambush you, we wanted to give you a heads up.’

‘Oh, and I’m supposed to be grateful for that?’ Neal said sarcastically.

‘Neal, you don't need to decide right now, take some time…’

‘Oh, I don’t need any time to think about it, Peter’ Neal said angrily. ‘You can take your little intervention and stick it up your ass. If you guys want to sit around and tear me to shreds, you go right ahead. But I don't have to like it and I sure as hell don’t have to listen to it.’

‘Neal, nobody wants to tear you to shreds…’ he began as Neal got to his feet, the chair underneath him scraping the floor as he stood and glared at Peter, a look of total betrayal on his face.

He turned away and headed towards the basement stairs. ‘You don’t mind finding your own way out, do you?’ he called back as he disappeared down the staircase.

And just like that, Peter had struck out.

WCWCWC

‘A penny for your thoughts’ Linda said as she touched her daughter-in-law's hand.

Sara looked up at her mother-in-law, her kind face staring at her. ‘I’m just wondering how Peter’s doing back at the house. Do you think he’ll be able to get through to Neal?’

Linda thought for a moment. ‘The truth? I don't think there’s anything Peter can say to Neal that will magically bring him on board. But, there are still a few days left before Saturday and Neal might come around.’

Sara sighed; she didn't know what she was going to do if Neal didn't show up on Saturday.She’d pinned all her hopes on him at least listening to what they had to say.

‘Did I ever tell you about how Neal used to ride his bike to the park every night after dinner?’ Linda Bennett asked, seemingly out of the blue.

‘No’ Sara said with a smile. She loved stories from when Neal was a kid.

‘He would have been six or seven and the park was a couple of blocks over. I would say to him: _‘Danny, you can go to the park on the condition you’re back by 7:30’._ He would start to argue, telling me in no uncertain terms that he would _not_ be back by that time, no matter what. I would just look at him and calmly repeat that I expected him to be home on time and then, I’d watch him take off on his bike, mumbling about how he would come home when he was good and ready and not a minute sooner.’

Sara listened; Neal always did have a mind of his own.

‘Well, the next thing I knew, 7:29 would roll around and I would see Neal coming up the street, pulling into the driveway just as the clock struck 7:30. He’d make up some excuse about how he was bored or how he’d decided he’d had enough and I would just smile and nod.’

Sara laughed as she imagined six year old Neal Caffrey, so defiant, a rebel without a cause.

‘He’ll make a fuss and refuse to come but let’s give him some time to think about it and try to show him all the reasons he has to try to get his life back on track’ Linda said as she took Sara’s hand. ‘Then, we’ll have to let him decide for himself.’

TBC


	44. Chapter 44

‘I just don’t think this is a good night for you to come over’ Liam whispered into the phone.

From his vantage point in the family room, he could see his dad in the kitchen, his body swaying from side to side as he struggled to chop up some vegetables.

‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it’ Cody answered. ‘Are you all right, though?’

‘No. Not really’ Liam admitted.

He couldn't quite believe the state of his dad. It was only supper time and he was stinking drunk - drunker than he'd seen him since that day in Hope’s hospital room.

‘Why don’t you come over here, then?’ Cody asked, concern in his voice. ‘We can talk.’

‘No, I… I don’t want to leave my mom alone. In case she needs me’ Liam said as Sara came into view and walked over to where Neal was struggling to stay upright.

‘Well, call me tomorrow and let me know how things went’ Cody said before hanging up.

‘Neal, look at me’ Liam heard his mom say. ‘Come on, get away from that knife before you hurt yourself.’

‘I’ve been making dinner for this family for the past twenty years’ Neal slurred, his voice defiant. ‘I can certainly cut up a few goddamn vegetables.’

‘Neal’ Sara said calmly, forcibly taking the knife from his hands. ‘Come on, let’s get you over to the couch.’

He let himself be dragged into the family room, moaning meekly in protest. After Peter had left, he’d barricaded himself in his studio, downing the rest of the bottle he had stashed down there as he attempted to work on his latest painting - attempted being the operative word. He’d been furious about what Peter had suggested and he couldn't believe that those closest to him had banded together to plot against him when he needed them the most. It was the ultimate betrayal and humiliation and he'd directed his anger and disappointment at the poor, unsuspecting bottle of scotch and that blank canvas that had now become a mess of mammoth proportions.

By the time the rest of the family had returned, he was three sheets to the wind and he’d been wandering around the house ever since, scattered and unfocussed, mumbling to himself.

‘Here, sit’ Sara ordered as Neal let himself fall heavily on the couch.

‘You… you just want me to fall asleep so you can keep plotting against me’ Neal said incoherently, a not so veiled reference to what Peter had discussed with him earlier. ‘Well, go right ahead and plot, I don’t care…’ he said petulantly as his head fell back.

There was no point in arguing or trying to make Neal see sense when he was this far gone and Sara bit her tongue, unwilling to enter into another argument about their intentions which had, not surprisingly, been misinterpreted by Neal.

Liam glanced nervously over at his mom who was doing her best to be calm and reassuring, despite the circumstances. He didn't know what to do when his dad got this way - this was all so upsetting and his heart broke at the sight of his beloved father so out of control.

Sara walked over to her son, taking his arm. ‘Don’t worry honey, he’s going to be fine. He obviously didn't take whatever your uncle Peter told him very well’ she explained.

‘Look, why don’t you and Caitlin walk down to Gino’s and get yourselves a pizza’ she added as she took her wallet out of her purse. ‘I’ll stay with him.’

‘But, Mom…’ he began as she silenced him with her hand.

‘It’s fine. He’ll be better tomorrow, you’ll see’ she said, trying her best to sound reassuring.

Truth was, this was anything _but_ fine and she couldn't take much more of this stress and turmoil. She reminded herself that the following Saturday was D-day and whether or not Neal chose to attend his own intervention, things were going to change from that point on. She wasn't going to put herself or her kids through any more of this. Neal’s lack of impulse control was amongst his most endearing qualities but in this circumstance, it was not doing him any favours.

The kids reluctantly left and Sara settled on the couch next to her husband, watching him sleep, mouth open, snoring loudly. She thought of all the ups and downs they'd shared over the years, all those times they’d held on to each other for support. When had her wonderful, responsible husband morphed into this shadow of his former self?

Neal snorted and opened his eyes, watching her stare at him and without a word, he slid over closer to where she sat, intent on curling up against her, seemingly seeking comfort and forgiveness. She opened her arms to him and he settled in, his body moulded to hers, always the perfect fit. She wondered if she would have the fortitude to kick him out if it came down to that. Linda’s words rang in her ears and she hoped her mother-in-law was right and that Neal would come to his senses before it was too late.

‘Sara… Sara… he moaned as he wound his arms tightly around her. ‘Help me… please…’

Sara’s eyes filled with tears. Why did it take him being in such a state before he let himself share some honest emotion and admit he needed help? When he eventually sobered up, all would be forgotten and he’d revert to being defiant and angry, unwilling to take the hands which were reaching out to help him.

‘Neal… honey, you have to help yourself’ she murmured as she ran her hand lovingly through his hair. ‘But I’m here for you.’

He nestled against her like a kitten, purring softly as she rubbed his scalp. He was going to have one massive headache in the morning and Sara cringed at the thought of lugging him up the stairs and into bed.

‘Repo…’ she heard him whisper, just when she thought he’d drifted off again. ‘Don’t leave me…’

‘Oh, Neal. Why are you making this all so hard?’ she said as she placed a kiss on his forehead.

He nuzzled her and brought his bleary eyes up to look up at her face, forcing them to stay open. ‘I’m sorry I’ve made such a mess’ he murmured, momentarily coherent. ‘Do you still love me?’

Sara looked down at his face, so open and vulnerable, wishing she could make this all better but knowing full well he needed to work this out for himself.

Her voice wavered as she spoke. ‘Of course I love you, Caffrey. I’ll _always_ love you.’

With that, she heard him sigh loudly and she felt his body relax in her arms as his eyes drifted shut.

WCWCWC

‘Look who I found up the hall’ Cam announced as he wheeled a smiling Hope into the meeting room.

The doctors were giving Cameron and the Caffreys the weekly update on Hope’s condition and for the first time, she was well enough to sit in on the meeting.

Neal and Sara rose to greet their daughter as Cam positioned her at the table. She looked so small in the oversized wheelchair, having lost a lot of weight since the accident, and yet her face was luminous, her eyes full of life.

‘Hey sweet pea’ Neal said as he kissed the top of her head. ‘You look great!’

‘Hi honey’ Sara added. ‘Are you excited to be here?’

Hope nodded enthusiastically. She was still struggling with communicating her thoughts although she seemed to understand everything that was said to her. As she grew more alert, her frustration at not being able to express herself adequately continued to grow and despite his unwavering support, Cam had noticed her getting more and more disheartened about her limitations.

Neal placed a bakery bag in front of his daughter as well as a cup from Starbucks and the wonderful odour of hot chocolate instantly permeated the air.

‘We got you your favourite’ he said as he opened up the bag and let her peek inside.

‘A-a-a-a mond…’ she uttered with a struggle as Neal smiled in response.

They were all getting good at understanding her shorthand, especially when they took into consideration the context of the conversation. Cameron, in particular, had become an expert at deciphering her fractured words, working hard to keep her frustration to a minimum while not speaking _for_ her, unless she asked him to.

‘There’d better be _two_ almond croissants in there!’ Cam teased as he took a look inside.

‘Of course’ Sara said with a warm smile.

She and Neal took a seat and Sara reflected once more on how normal things where when Neal kept his drinking to a minimum. He was his old, warm, caring self, his sense of humour intact and yet, when he gave in to his feelings of guilt and inadequacy, he morphed into another version of himself she now realized she had no desire to share her life with.

‘Ah, I see the gang’s all here’ Dr. White bellowed as he appeared in the doorway and took a seat. ‘It’s nice to have our patient with us today.’

Hope gave him a small smile and let her hand slip into Cameron’s. She’d had more tests and she was eager to hear what the results were, good or bad.

‘You’ve got a big week coming up this week, Hope. We’ve secured a bed for you at the rehab facility and we’re going to get you up and moving around as early as Wednesday’ he announced.

‘There’s a full gym there and you’ll have to work hard but we hope you’ll be walking within a few days. How are you doing with solid food?’ he asked, addressing Hope.

She nodded and smiled, deferring to Cameron to give details to the doctor. ‘She’s eating well and she seems to be getting her appetite back’ he said, pointing to the bag of food on the table.

‘Excellent’ Dr. White said. ‘Now that the feeding tube has been removed, you’re getting all your nutrients from food so we need to fatten you up a little.’

Hope’s face grew serious and everyone stopped talking momentarily to give her a chance to collect her thoughts and articulate what she wanted to say.

’T-talk’ Hope said, struggling to speak.

The doctor nodded in understanding. ’I know you’ve started your speech therapy with Heidi and she’ll be following you over to rehab. It’s going to take some time but I’m confident we can really improve on your current situation if you’re willing to work hard.’

Hope’s face grew sad at the doctor’s latest comment and Cam brought his arm around her shoulder as she attempted to speak.

‘…prove?’ she asked, becoming agitated. Improving wasn't good enough; she wanted to get back to the way things had been before the accident. She looked over at Cam, her face alarmed.

‘Hope is concerned that she won’t be able to communicate like before’ he explained.

‘Your last scan shows that there is still some pressure on the front left side of your brain which is the area of the brain that controls speech. That explains, in part, why you’re experiencing so much difficulty speaking. But what we don't know for sure is what the residual damage will be once the inflammation has completely dissipated. It’s likely that you’re suffering from some form of aphasia.’

Neal leaned in and spoke, his face contorted. ‘What’s aphasia?’ he asked, the question that was on everyone’s mind.

‘Aphasia is a communication disorder that results from damage to the left side of the brain. It causes difficulty speaking or understanding language, even reading in some cases although every situation is different. We’ve been able to ascertain that Hope can understand language but she struggles with speaking which means we need to attack with some aggressive speech therapy if we want her to continue to progress.’

‘Will she be able to speak… normally?’ Sara asked, concern apparent on her face.

‘I can’t answer that, Mrs. Caffrey’ Dr. White said. ‘We really need to let the inflammation come down before we can ascertain if there’s been any permanent damage.’He turned to face Hope as he continued. ‘Chances are your speech will never be as fluid as it was before the accident but you can largely improve things with therapy and a lot of hard work.’

Hope’s eyes filled with tears as everyone in the room grew quiet. She’d been hoping for better news and yet, she’d come such a long way since that horrible rainy night in March.

‘I don’t want to paint a doomsday scenario’ Dr. White explained. ‘But I _do_ want to be honest with you. Hope, you have done extremely well considering the extent of your injuries so you mustn't get discouraged. Let’s take things one day at a time.’

Hope grunted as everyone looked towards her. She brought her hand to the left side of her face, her fingers lingering on the scars that lined her face.

‘You’re wondering about the scars?’ Dr. White asked as she nodded.

‘We can certainly get you a consult with one of our cosmetic surgeons if you want to start exploring options.’

Hope nodded and smiled through the tears that had begun to roll down her face.

‘All right, I’ll request a consult for you’ he said as he leaned in and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I just want to remind you of how far you’ve come, young lady. You’re very brave, don't you forget it.’

And with that, Dr. White rose, indicating the meeting was over.

TBC


	45. Chapter 45

The week before the intervention was much like every other week had been since the accident. Neal visited Hope every morning and helped her with her physical therapy. Some mornings, they would play chess or discuss how things were going at the gallery or the school - Hope eager to keep abreast of any new developments. Neal brought in interesting articles for her to read and sometimes, when she was too tired, she would simply close her eyes and listen as he read from the newspaper or from some artsy magazine - or when she was feeling particularly lazy, some celebrity rag. She continued to do well with language comprehension although she still struggled with reading and to her chagrin, she was still having difficulty holding a pencil or a paintbrush in her unsteady hands.

They’d begun to make tentative plans for her homecoming. It was unclear whether or not she would _ever_ be returning to Carnegie Mellon, a subject everyone chose to avoid for fear of upsetting her. Dr. White had indicated that once her physical therapy was well underway, she’d be able to return home and have her speech therapy on an out-patient basis. For the time being, everyone focussed on that short term goal and Cam had reluctantly acknowledged that the house on Meadowbrook Street was a better choice for Hope’s recovery than his tiny apartment in Flushing.

Neal remained functional during the day, usually beginning his morning with a couple of drinks just to steady his shaking hands and help dull those persistent headaches. Every weekday, after leaving the hospital, he would head over to the June Ellington School of Art to put in a few hours of work, which he was able to carry out on most days without incident. Now that he wasn't driving anymore, he kept his visits to the gallery to a minimum - taking a cab was expensive and Cam and Peter had everything under control at the Raphael. Not having access to a car was strangely liberating and, for better or for worse, Neal no longer felt the need to monitor his alcohol intake as carefully as he had before. On most days, he remained clear headed enough to carry out his duties and, except for a few notable exceptions, staff at the school remained unaware of Neal’s personal struggle.

Neal would begin his descent into blissful oblivion shortly after dinner, usually having a couple of glasses of wine to ease into a comfortable buzz before settling down to the hard stuff. Sara had given up on trying to convince him to slow down on his alcohol consumption. She just picked up the pieces at bedtime and hoped he would cooperate on the long climb up to their bedroom. Intimacy was off the table. Most nights, Neal fell into bed and was instantly asleep, sometimes curling up against his wife, moaning incoherently, but more typically, settling on his back and snoring loudly as Sara tossed and turned next to him.

She didn’t care, not really. She just wanted him nearby where she could keep an eye on him and keep him safe from himself. She longed for his loving touches and warm embraces but except for a few fleeting hugs and kisses throughout the day, she was left to wonder if they would ever resume the level of intimacy they had worked so hard to rebuild since her sexual assault. It seemed particularly cruel that, now that she had finally recovered from the brutal attack, Neal would pull away from her and leave her wanting.

The sick, twisted routine had become the new normal in the Caffrey household but it was unacceptable to everyone - except Neal.

Sara attempted to raise the subject of the intervention on a couple of occasions but Neal had immediately shut her down, to her utter chagrin. He felt betrayed. In his warped perception of reality, no one understood what he was going through and as time passed, he continued to pull away from those who loved him. They were running out of time and if he didn't agree to come to the intervention, the group would be forced to make some very difficult and unilateral decisions regarding the future of their relationship with this man they loved so much but whose destructive behaviour they could no longer tolerate.

On Wednesday morning, Neal was there when they moved Hope over to another wing of the hospital. Her new room, which they all hoped would be temporary, was bigger and brighter than her hospital room had been. It was littered with equipment to help with her physical therapy and it had plenty of room for her to walk around in as she became more mobile. They visited the gym together and as Neal watched with a heavy heart, Hope had her first session with Amanda, a young physiotherapist who’d been assigned to her case. After having suffered broken bones and being all but motionless for weeks on end, she was having to relearn how to move and it was painful for Neal to watch her struggle to get her legs back.

Hope was all but mute, still struggling with forming the sounds necessary to communicate with her loved ones. Cameron had been loving and intuitive, finding ways to keep the conversation flowing despite overwhelming odds to the contrary. His patience and sense of humour had been instrumental in keeping Hope from flying off the handle and giving in to frustration on more than one occasion.

She might not be able to talk much but she could observe and listen and Hope was fully aware of the daily struggles her dad was facing. He wasn't fooling her one bit. He'd arrive every morning with that annoying conman smile of his, always upbeat, despite the blood shot eyes and sloping shoulders. Unbeknownst to Neal, Hope could always tell how much he’d had to drink the night before by observing his demeanour.Some mornings, he seemed chipper and rested while on other days, his body language spoke to a lack of sleep and an overindulgence that left him shaky and unsteady. Whatever she couldn't decipher by herself, she managed to worm out of Liam during his daily afternoon visits. Her mutism had forced the young man to open up even more and, truth be told, he was relieved to have someone to talk to who understood better than anyone else what he was going through. 

‘It’s in two days’ he said as he visited her in her new room on Thursday afternoon. ‘And Dad is still refusing to come.’

She gave her brother a questioning look and he immediately surmised her question.

‘I’m not sure what’ll happens if he doesn't come. Mom says things _have_ to change but…’ he confided, letting his voice trail.

He watched Hope’s face, urging him to continue. ‘I’m afraid if he doesn't show up, Mom’s going to kick him out of the house.’

Hope frowned as she listened. She pointed to the small table by her bedside and nodded insistently. Liam knew what that meant; it was time for her to work on her letter to her dad, something she’d been toiling over for more than a week.

Her eye-hand coordination was still an issue and writing was a struggle but she’d been adamant she wanted to contribute to the intervention even if she couldn't physically be there and every day, with Liam’s help, she added a sentence or two to the letter she was writing - a heartwrenching plea to her dad to please get help and come back to them, now that she needed him more than ever.

Liam watched as Hope struggled with holding the pen in her hand, her tongue darting from between her lips as she concentrated. She’d always been his big sister, the one who looked out for him over the years, watchful and protective. She was one of a very few people, which included his uncle Moz, who had the uncanny ability of pulling him out of himself and getting him to open up. Watching her struggle like this, he realized it was his turn to step up and look out for her, to help keep her safe and support her on her long, long road to recovery. It was a huge responsibility and he didn't want to let her down.

Hope grunted and pointed down to the piece of paper in her lap, her movements impatient.

‘That should be ‘ie’ he corrected as she nodded and returned to the tedious task.

If none of them could convince his dad to listen, their lives were about to change in ways he wasn't prepared for and he suddenly felt a shiver.

‘Hope…’ he said, tentatively. ‘I’m scared.’

WCWCWC

Neal looked up to find one of his teachers standing in the doorway to his office.

’There’s someone here to see you’ the woman said as Neal recognized Elizabeth Burke lurking right behind her.

‘Thanks Janelle’ Neal said as he put down his pen and forced a smile in El’s direction.

He’d known it was just a matter of time before Mrs. Burke tried her hand at getting him to agree to come to their sordid little reunion on Saturday. The woman was as relentless as a pit bull as he well knew from years of having her inhabit his orbit.

‘El! What a nice surprise’ he said with all the phoney enthusiasm he could muster. ‘What brings you all the way out here to the Bronx?’

‘I was visiting a friend nearby and I thought I’d drop off this pumpkin spice cake I made for you’ she lied - strictly for form. Neal was a smart man and he surely knew her visit had _nothing_ to do with dropping off a cake and had _everything_ to do with convincing him to come to the planned intervention.

‘I _do_ love your pumpkin spice cake’ Neal said as he stood and waved her in.

Of course, she would try to get to him with food; it was Elizabeth Burke’s MO although it was going to take more than a cake to get Neal to agree to the folly of an ambush by his family and friends.

Without waiting for an invitation - which likely was _not_ forthcoming - she took a seat across from Neal’s desk and put the cake down with a nervous smile.

‘Wow, that looks delicious’ Neal said flatly. ‘Thanks for taking the time to stop by.’ Shorthand for _you really shouldn’t, no I mean_ ** _shouldn't_** _have bothered coming._

He remained standing; in his experience, there was no better way to let an unwelcome visitor know their visit was ill-timed than to remain standing and wait for them to take the hint. Of course, social graces meant nothing to a stubborn woman like Elizabeth Burke and she settled in, obviously not planning on leaving until he heard her out. He reluctantly stepped back behind his desk and took a seat, waiting for the inevitable avalanche of arguments she no doubt had in her arsenal.

‘So, how are things?’ she asked as Neal waited not so patiently for her to get on with it.

‘El, it’s me. We both know you didn't come all the way out here from Brooklyn to bring me _cake_.’ he said, unwilling to play games. 

Her eyes perused the office, noticing a bottle of scotch and a half empty glass on the sideboard behind Neal’s desk. He looked perfectly sober and in control of his actions but it was obvious that imbibing had now become part and parcel of his workday and he wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.

‘Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?’ she said, goading him and pointing to the bottle.

If she wanted to play that little game, Neal was more than willing to play along. He didn't owe her any explanations and he no longer had anything to hide.

He gave her an arrogant smile and turned to grab the bottle and a second glass, pouring her a tumbler of scotch and watching her reaction. She’d obviously been hoping Neal would be embarrassed by her request but he remained as cool as a cucumber as she rolled her eyes and pushed the glass away.

‘Sorry, that was stupid of me’ she admitted. ‘Neal, I wanted to talk to you about…’

‘El, you can save your breath. I’m not going to any get together where all of you are going to take turns swatting at me like some sort of piñata’ he proclaimed as he took the glass he’d poured for her and took a sip.

‘That’s not what this is, Neal. We love you, all of us.’

Neal scoffed and took another sip. ‘Well, you all have a funny way of showing it’ he said.

‘I know you might not be able to see it right now but your drinking is hurting Sara and it’s hurting the kids.’

‘Really, El? You’re here to _lecture_ me on my life and my family?’ he said mordantly.

She looked down, unsure what had possessed her to think she could get through to such a stubborn man. He could rationalize better than anyone she’d ever met - often doing the wrong thing for the right reason. In this case, however, he was way off course, unable to see the forest for the trees and it was her mission to set him straight.

‘Sara’s hurting, Neal…’ she began again.

‘Sara’s _my_ wife and this is _my_ marriage’ he responded curtly. ‘I don’t need everybody poking their nose in our business. That’s between Sara and me.’

‘That’s _not_ true, Neal. Your relationship with Peter is suffering too and what about your mom?’ she asked, her voice pleading.

‘El… please’ Neal said, barely keeping his temper in check. ‘Look, I really _do_ appreciate the cake but I’ve work to do so…’

He stood and waited for her to do the same. She reluctantly followed suit and got on her feet, keeping her eyes glued to his defiant gaze.

‘Neal, no one wants to humiliate you or embarrass you but you need to know how people are feeling. No man is an island and all we want to do is help…’

Neal stared blankly at her, his eyes cold and he made his way to the door, holding it open for her.

‘Thanks for dropping by Elizabeth’ he said dismissively as El skulked by him, stopping briefly to place a hand on his arm.

‘Please, just think about it’ she pleaded as she stepped out into the hallway.

Neal closed the door behind him and stood with his back pressed against it, letting out a loud, plaintive sigh.

TBC


	46. Chapter 46

Peter Burke stuck his head in the refrigerator and poked around, looking for some inspiration. Except for a cryptic text from his wife, telling him she was running late, he had no idea where she was or what she was up to. What he _did_ know, was that she hadn't had any appointments that day so whatever she was doing was of a personal nature - and from the evidence he’d uncovered when he’d gotten home, the ex-FBI agent guessed that El’s sudden disappearance had something to do with Neal Caffrey.

He closed the refrigerator door and returned to the cupboard where he'd been foraging before, grabbing some noodles and he headed to the stove to put some water on to boil. As had been the case more than he cared to admit over the past few days, his thoughts returned to his best friend. He’d had a brief exchange with Neal on Tuesday when he’d shown up unannounced at the gallery to discuss a new exhibit with Cameron but Neal had appeared cold and distant, a sure sign he was still upset about their exchange from the previous Sunday.

Peter had replayed that conversation over and over again, trying to figure out where, exactly, they had gone off the rails. Had he pushed too hard? Not hard enough? He’d rarely seen Neal dig in his heels but on those few occasions where he and Neal had had serious disagreements, he’d learned that when his ex CI got something in his head, it became virtually impossible to get him to change his mind. His best bet was to let Neal figure things out by himself and pray he’d come to his senses before the intervention scheduled for Saturday.

As D-day loomed, Sara and Elizabeth had been in touch on a daily basis, exchanging last minute strategies to try to bring Neal on side and Peter knew that, so far, Sara hadn't had much luck convincing Neal to hear them out. Time was running out and there was only so much that could be done, he reflected, as he thought of that old saying about a horse and a body of water.

‘Peter! Honey!’ he heard as the front door opened.

‘There you are!’ Peter said, stepping out of the kitchen to welcome his wife.

‘I’m sorry’ she mumbled as she carried some bags into the kitchen. ‘Traffic was terrible. But I did pick up some Thai for dinner.’

She turned towards her husband and placed a kiss on his grateful lips, watching as he gave her a look of… what was that, rebuke?

‘You did it, didn't you?’ he asked as she frowned.

‘Did what?’ she attempted, although she figured she was busted.

’You went out to see Neal.’

She gave him a look of despair; he’d been right, it had been a total waste of time but she wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she hadn't at least tried.

‘I… I thought maybe if I …’

‘Honey, we agreed not to push him. You know he’ll only dig his heels in if you keep trying to talk him into it’ Peter said, peeking into the bags she’d just brought in.

‘I thought if I could just have a few minutes alone with him, I could make him realize how much everybody is worried about him’ El said as she began unpacking her purchases.

Peter raised his eyebrows as he listened. ‘And how did that work out for you?’ he asked, knowing full well the answer.

She pouted in response. ‘It didn’t. He… well, he sort of kicked me out of his office.’

Peter gave her a look that was half compassion and half ‘ _I told you so’_ and followed it up with a hug by way of compensation.

‘Honey, he drinks at work’ she said as she looked into his eyes. ‘Right there in the open. He had a bottle out on his desk.’

‘Are you really surprised? He’s lost all perspective when it comes to his drinking.’

‘You still haven't told him about the arrest, have you?’ she asked as Peter shook his head.

‘I haven't had the heart to, with everything that’s going on.’

‘Maybe it would be a wake-up call if he knew how dangerously close he’s come to causing something as horrible as what happened to Hope.’

‘Maybe…’ Peter agreed. ‘But with the intervention, he’s got a lot on his mind and I don’t want to hit him with everything at once.’

Elizabeth pulled her eyes away from the bag of food and turned to face Peter with a questioning look. ‘So, what gave me away?’

‘You’re not exactly subtle, honey. There’s only one other person besides Mozzie who’s crazy about your pumpkin spice cake and the place was reeking when I came in the door.’

‘Damn pumpkin spice cake’ she said with a shrug. ‘It’ll give you away every time.’

WCWCWC

It had been the week from hell and Sara couldn't wait for it to be over. She sat on the edge of the bed, applying body lotion to her arms and legs, her gaze vacant as she replayed the events of the previous three nights. She had come to the realization that she just needed to keep her head down and make it through until Saturday - not that she had any idea what would happen after the deadline they’d set for Neal. He’d become even more sullen as the week progressed and he’d come home in a foul mood, mumbling something about an unexpected visitor at the school.

She braced herself for what she would find when she went downstairs to collect Neal and bring him up to bed. It was a nasty ritual she’d had more than enough of - two more nights and things would change drastically, for better or for worse.

‘Mom, are you all right?’ Liam asked as he loomed in the doorway to the bedroom.

‘Hi honey’ she said, her voice quiet. ‘I’m just getting ready to go down and get your dad.’

‘Do you need any help?’ he asked as he came to sit next to her.

‘No, I’ll be fine. He’s pretty tame at this time of night…’ she said sadly.

‘Mom, do you think he’ll come on Saturday?’ Liam asked, his voice worried.

‘I don’t know sweetie. But I think we have to prepare for the possibility he might not…’

‘What does that mean? What do we do if he doesn't come?’ Liam asked.

Sara let out a sigh and brought her arm up to rest around her son’s broad shoulders. He was so young to be dealing with all this turmoil; first his sister’s accident and now, this.

‘Well, one thing’s for sure. We can't keep living like this. I’m afraid we’ll have to make some difficult choices if your dad doesn't come to his senses’ Sara said, her voice sad, yet resigned.

‘Will you kick him out of the house?’ he asked.

That was his worst fear, that his dad would be asked to leave the house and that he wouldn't see him anymore. Sara looked into her young son’s eyes, seeing the fear and pain there; she could certainly identify with those conflicting emotions. The last thing she wanted was to throw Neal out but the options would be limited if he refused to get help.

‘Honestly, honey… I don't know’ she answered. ‘But something _has_ to give. This is not a healthy environment for any of us.’

She gave her son a hug and watched as he crossed the hallway into his bedroom. Watching Neal self-destruct was painful enough but seeing what it was doing to their son was breaking her heart.

WCWCWC

Neal sat at the kitchen table, head in his hands. He'd had more than his fill for the night and he closed his weary eyes, waiting patiently for Sara to make an appearance. It had become a sick, twisted ritual: he would drink himself into oblivion and Sara would appear, beautiful, gentle Sara and she would smooth all the rough edges and gently guide him up to bed where he would fall into a dreamless sleep. It had gotten to the point where he didn't even make a move to go up to bed until she appeared, faithful and dependable, as she’d done every night for the past few weeks.

Sara stepped off the staircase and took a deep breath, wondering what she would find. It was a crapshoot; some nights, Neal was tame and pliant and just followed her up the stairs quietly while other nights, he was more combative and angry and he mumbled and moaned as she half dragged him up to bed.

She spotted him in the kitchen this time, sitting at the table, his head in his hands, the empty glass on the table in front of him and she quietly made her way over. He seemed unaware of her presence at first, not moving and she stepped in a little closer, reaching out for him and running a hand through his disheveled hair.

His head came up in response to her gentle touch and a small smile graced his lips. His angel had come for him.

‘You ready for bed?’ she spoke softly as she stepped in closer.

His arms were instantly around her waist as Sara pulled him in to her bosom, hands still buried in his hair. He let out a content sigh as he felt her warm, solid body and he nuzzled his cheek gently against her, letting out a soft moan.

‘You smell good’ he purred, his voice muffled.

She smiled and shook her head, disheartened. What was she going to do with this man who pushed all her buttons yet whom she loved more than ever.

‘Well, _you_ smell like whisky’ she countered as she felt him smile against her.

‘I miss you’ he mumbled.

‘I’m right here, honey’ she responded as she felt a lump forming in her throat. She wouldn't be there much longer if he kept this up and she knew he would be devastated if it ever came to that.

‘Come on baby’ she said. ‘You need to get some sleep.’

He nodded through his drunken haze. ‘Okay’ he muttered as he looked up at her, his eyes sad.

He returned his face to her chest, anchored in the moment and suddenly, she wasn't in any hurry to pull away. What if this was the last time she got to hold him like this, his warm body against hers. Instead of pulling him to his feet, she stood there motionless and just held him, running her hands through his thick mane of hair and bringing her lips to the top of his head. She swallowed, fighting tears and felt his arms tighten around her waist, holding on to her like a lifeline, a buoy.

As if he were reading her thoughts, she heard him mumble. ‘Maybe if I hold on to you tight enough… I won’t drown’ he said, his voice slurred.

‘Neal, if you hold on to me, you’re going to take me down with you and… I can’t let you do that. I love you so much but I won’t go down with you. You need to save yourself.’

His breathing grew heavy and Sara wondered if he might be nodding off but instead, his arms tightened around her and his hands moved down to cup her buttocks as he moaned, his voice plaintive.

‘I miss you so much’ he lamented as his hands traveled up and down her back to her backside and back again.

She pulled away to take his face in her hands, staring down at a his half-lidded eyes, noting with surprise that look of arousal she knew all too well.

‘Come on Romeo, let’s get you up to bed’ she finally said as he struggled to stand.

Once on his feet, he teetered momentarily, his arms returning to her waist and this time, his lips sought hers in a desperate, almost mournful, attempt to connect.

‘Sara…’ he moaned as he kissed her rather sloppily.

‘Neal, what are you doing?’ she asked with just a touch of impatience.

He let out a small chuckle as his lips moved to the hollow of her neck and he slipped her t-shirt off her shoulder in an effort to graze her bare skin. ‘If you don’t _know_ what I’m doing…’ he slurred ‘…then, I’m obviously not doing it right.’

It was all very endearing if it hadn't been so pathetic and Sara took a step back to look into his eyes, Neal stumbling along with her until her back was pressed up against the kitchen counter, his lips still searching for somewhere to land.

‘Honey, cut it out’ she said playfully as she felt his body plastered against hers.

The weight of his body was comforting yet strangely unwelcome and Sara brought her hand up to his chest in an attempt to push him away.

‘Come on Neal. It’s late, let’s just go to bed’ she whispered, trying to be the voice of reason.

He groaned as he felt the familiar curves of her body against his and his hands wandered under her t-shirt, seeking the warmth of her silky skin.

‘Your skin’s so soft’ he murmured, his hands wandering down to cradle her hips.

‘Neal, I’m serious’ she said, becoming annoyed at his insistence. ‘Come on, cut it out.’

‘Babe…’ he moaned wistfully in her ear. ‘I’ve missed you… I want you… it’s been so long, so, so long…’

He was right, of course. Except for their aborted gropefest on the night of Bea’s visit, they’d barely had any physical contact in weeks. But this was neither the time nor the place and Sara nudged him away a second time.

‘Honey, not here, not now. You’re drunk’ she said, not that it was news to either one of them.

Neal let out a low growl, ignoring her as he continued on his quest, his hands now moving freely under her t-shirt as he reached for her breast and squeezed, groaning loudly with pleasure.

‘I’m not _that_ drunk’ he said lewdly as she felt him rutting up against her.

She brought her hands up to his forearms and pushed and he took a step back, momentarily distracted from his amorous pursuit.

‘Neal, stop it. It’s late and I just want to go to sleep. Don’t give me a hard time… please’ Sara pleaded, trying to reason with him.

He gave her a crooked smile. ‘But I _want_ to give you a _hard_ time…’ he said suggestively as if his play on words wasn’t totally cheesy and tasteless.

He pressed his hips forward, grinding up against her and brought his hand up under her t-shirt once again as Sara began to wriggle from his grasp, the hard counter at her back, trapping her against him. His lips began to wander, moving from her neck to her ear and back to her mouth as she turned her head away.

‘Neal! I mean it. Stop it. I don’t want this’ she said, her tone growing more deliberate.

He pulled away to look at her, his hips still firmly in place. She was so hot when she got feisty and, strangely, the tone of her voice seemed to spur him on and he took a step forward and pinned his hips forcefully against her. He heard her gasp but his lips were instantly on hers, cutting her off as he felt her struggling to push him away.

‘Sara, I love you…’ he moaned as he pushed back, keeping her body trapped against the hard countertop. ‘I _love_ you…’

She could feel her heart rate start to increase and her breathing quicken in response to the alarm bells that had begun to go off in her confused mind. This was Neal and yet, he wasn't listening to her and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe with the weight of his body pushing up against her with no regard for her wishes. This didn't feel right - or good - and she could feel her pulse accelerating as her annoyance began to morph into fear and anger.

‘Neal, you’re scaring me’ she said, although her voice was fading as fear gripped her. 

He kept her firmly in place, not giving her any wiggle room. ‘I just want to make love to my wife… come on, babe… ’ he murmured as Sara became increasingly alarmed.

The image of her attacker suddenly flashed through her mind as she felt Neal’s body pressed up against her so insistently, not giving her any room to manoeuvre. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe and she wanted him off of her in the worst possible way. When had their playful exchange escalated into this unwanted advance and what part of ‘stop’ wasn't he understanding?

Her breathing became ragged and she let out a helpless moan which Neal seemed to interpret as arousal. He brought his hand down to her belly, slipping it inside her sleep pants as she struggled to fight him off. His mouth was on hers, bruising her lips and cutting off her air supply and her anger began to escalate to panic and, summoning strength she didn't know she had, she gave him a decisiveshove, pushing him away as she caught her breath.

‘I SAID STOP IT!’ she screamed breathlessly.

The shrillness of her voice caught him by surprise and Neal stumbled back inelegantly, the back of his legs hitting the table and keeping him from falling to the floor. He looked into his wife’s wild eyes and that’s when he saw it. The look of sheer panic on her face hit him like a ton of bricks as he realized _he_ was the reason she looked so terrified. The sudden realization served to sober him up and his mouth hung open as shock set in.

‘Oh, my god!’ he said as he observed the terror in her eyes and realized he’d acted impulsively, recklessly.

‘Sara, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to scare you… I just… I got carried away…’ he whimpered, taking a step forward and reaching out to touch her arm.

‘DON’T!’ she screamed, her breathing uneven as she tried to recover from the unwanted advance she’d just experienced.

Neal’s breathing faltered as he became aware of the magnitude of his actions and how they had upset Sara, the one woman he would never knowingly hurt.

‘Sara… Sara…’ he kept repeating as he began to shake uncontrollably.

‘Sit down! Right now!’ she yelled as he stumbled back and obeyed in stunned silence, letting himself fall clumsily onto a kitchen chair.

‘Mom?’ Sara heard from the bottom of the staircase. ‘Are you all right?’

Sara swallowed, trying to keep her wits about her so things wouldn't escalated any further.

‘I’m fine, Liam’ she managed to say between laboured breaths. ‘Go back upstairs.’

‘But…’

‘Honey, I’m fine. I’ll call you if I need you’ she repeated as she continued to stare Neal down, daggers in her eyes.

She could see tears forming in his eyes as he realized what he'd done but, frankly, she didn't give a crap about how _he_ might be feeling. He’d behaved with a total lack of respect for her and a disregard for all she’d been through and all she could think about was getting as far away from him as she possibly could before she said or did something she’d live to regret.

They heard Liam’s footsteps as he retreated upstairs and Neal attempted to stand as Sara put out her hand to stop him.

‘Don’t you _dare_ get up. Don’t move from there!’ she said, regaining control. 

‘Sara, I’m so sorry’ Neal whimpered. ‘I don't know what came over me.’

She continued to breathe, in and out, trying to get a normal rhythm going as her heart continued to beat wildly in her chest.

‘How _could_ you? After everything we’ve been through these past few months…’ she shouted as she stared at him with total disgust.

‘Please… honey, can we talk about it… I made a terrible mistake’ he pleaded as she glared back at him, unblinking.

‘There’s _nothing_ to talk about’ she stated, her voice hard and cold. ‘I don't want you here, Neal. I want you out of this house - ’

Neal interrupted, his voice shaky. ‘Honey… no… please…’ he begged, to no avail.

Sara took a steadying breath, her eyes staring into her husband’s, an icy stare that made his blood run cold.

‘We are _done_ , Neal’ she stated calmly despite the fact her body was shaking uncontrollably.

He sat there, shellshocked, the alcohol no longer providing a buffer for the despair he was feeling. How could he have been so reckless

Sara spoke again and his eyes were drawn to hers, angry and hurt.

‘Now, I’m going upstairs and I’m calling Peter to come and get you - _if_ he wants to put up with you, that is.’

Neal’s body shook as the full implications of what he’d just done came into focus. They had worked hard for months to get Sara through the aftermath of her sexual assault and he’d managed to throw it all away in one impetuous moment of drunken stupor.

He made a move to stand once again and Sara made a menacing motion with her hand, making him stop dead in his tracks.

‘I said, don’t move from there. I mean it, Neal. I’ll call the police if you come near me.’

Neal’s face contorted as he took in her words; he'd gone too far and now there was no turning back.

’Sara… please… give me one last chance…’ he pleaded as he watched her turn away. 

But in that moment he knew, there would be no coming back from this.

TBC


	47. Chapter 47

Neal sat at the kitchen table, bewildered and stunned. Part of him had wanted to run after Sara and beg for her forgiveness but, even in his present alcohol fuelled haze, he knew that his penance and contrition needed to start right there at their kitchen table, doing _exactly_ what she’d told him to do.

So he sat there. Dutifully. Waiting for Peter to arrive.

He dropped his heavy head into his hands, noticing how they shook uncontrollably. He couldn't believe he’d acted so recklessly without any consideration whatsoever for Sara’s express wishes. Now that his mind was clearer, he could hear the echo of her voice ringing in his ears… _‘Stop… I need you to stop… Neal, I mean it…’_

How many times had she said it? And why hadn't he paid attention until was too late?

She’d given him so many unmistakeable cues, her distraught face, her unyielding body, her angry words. There was no doubt as to what she’d wanted and yet, he'd totally ignored her and he’d acted like some depraved, sexual predator using his physical strength to impose his will on her.

Seeing that look of sheer terror in her eyes had been a horrifying wake-up call. He’d always been the one to comfort her, to make it all better and now, suddenly, he was cast in the role of the villain, the aggressor, the instigator of her fear and despair. 

Even if she forgave him someday for his egregious behaviour, Neal wondered if he could ever learn to forgive himself.

WCWCWC

Sara was shaking like a leaf by the time she made it upstairs. She spotted Liam sitting on his bed, despite the late hour, waiting for her to reappear. The intense argument might have gone unnoticed by Caitlin, who could sleep through just about anything, but Liam knew something serious had happened between his parents and he was instantly on his feet, the moment his mom appeared in his field of vision.

He followed her into his parents’ bedroom and stood in the doorway, unnoticed, watching as Sara made her way to the phone by the bed and picked it up, her movements measured and eerily deliberate. From behind, he could see her shoulders shaking and when she spoke into the phone, he barely recognized her voice.

'Peter…’ he heard her say, her voice trembling. ‘I need you to come over here and get Neal. No, no, I’m all right…’ she responded to some question on the other end. ‘No’ she repeated. ‘Just… hurry, please.’

Liam watched in silence as his mom hung up the phone and walked decisively towards the closet, grabbing for an overnight bag and throwing it onto the bed.

‘Mom?’ he said as she startled.

‘What?’ she responded, without looking up.

‘What happened?’ he asked as he took a few tentative steps into the room.

He could see her face now, puffy and red, despite the fact her hair was hanging down over her bleary eyes.

‘It’s okay, Liam. Don’t worry’ she said, her voice shaky as she began throwing some of Neal’s clothes into the bag.

‘Hum… Mom’ he insisted. ‘It’s _not_ okay… and I _am_ worried.’

She continued to work in silence as he hovered nearby, unsure about what his mom needed and what he could to help.

‘Is Dad going somewhere?’ he asked as he perched on the bed, searching her eyes.

She turned to face him and he could see the tears streaming down her face. He watched as she brought her shaking hand up and brushed her cheek, seemingly unable to speak.

‘Mom…’ he moaned, more worried than ever at the sight of his usually cool, collected mom falling apart in front of his eyes.

He got to his feet and moved closer, touching her arm tenderly. ‘Mom, did Dad hurt you?’

Sara stared at him for an instant and for some unknown reason, she felt the need to defend the actions of the man who had just betrayed her so completely that she wasn't sure she would ever be able to forgive him.

‘No honey, of course he didn’t’ she lied. He might not have punched her in the gut but the end result had been just as painful.

‘He did, didn't he?’ Liam repeated. ‘Mom, I’m not a baby.’

Sara grabbed for a tissue from the night stand and blew her nose loudly as her eyes focussed on her son standing there, half boy, half man.

‘I know you’re not a baby… Liam, I can’t talk about it right now… I just need to get Dad sorted out’ she said, unwilling - or unable - to tell him much more.

She turned away from him and returned to the task at hand and he watched, transfixed, as she folded a few shirts and a couple of pairs of pants and walked over to Neal’s dresser to get some socks and underwear. She whimpered as she worked and Liam sat in uncomfortable silence, watching her move around the room, not wanting to upset her any further. 

Not a sound was heard from downstairs and Liam wondered if he should go down and see if his dad was all right but he didn't know exactly what had transpired between them and it might make things worse if he got in the middle of it. Add to that the fact that his dad had been drinking heavily and wouldn’t be in any condition to have a coherent or meaningful conversation. Whatever had happened between the two of them had obviously pushed his mom right over the edge and it appeared she was no longer willing to put up with his dad’s increasingly outlandish shenanigans.

By the time Sara had finished packing the bag, Liam was on his feet again and he put out his hand to take it from her. There was no way he was letting her go back down there to face his dad when she was in this state. His eyes searched hers, seeing pain he’d rarely seen there and he put out his hand to touch her shoulder as she recoiled. Generally speaking, his mom wasn't much of a ‘cryer’ and he immediately spotted the unease in her eyes as he let his hand drop listlessly to his side.

‘Here, I’ll take it down’ he said just as they heard the front door opening downstairs.

They heard some muffled voices off in the distance and Liam turned to leave as Sara melted into a puddle of goo onto the bed.

WCWCWC

‘Neal, look at me’ Liam heard his uncle Peter say as he stepped off the staircase, carrying the overnight bag and setting it down by the front door.

He followed the voice into the kitchen and saw his dad sitting at the table, totally motionless, staring off into space.

Peter looked up towards the newcomer, his eyes narrowing in question. ‘Where’s your mom?’ he asked as Liam pointed in the direction of the stairs.

‘I’m just going to go up and check on her’ Peter said, touching Liam’s arm. ‘Are _you_ okay?’

Liam nodded silently as he continued to stare at his dad, whose eyes were still riveted on the empty glass in his shaking hands.

‘I’ll be right back’ Peter added before disappearing towards the staircase at the front of the house.

Whatever might have transpired between his mom and dad, the fact was Liam loved them both and he took a seat next to Neal and waited for a moment to see if the broken man next to him would acknowledge his presence. Neal seemed to snap out of his trance and he finally looked up, his eyes bloodshot and strangely empty.

‘Liam…’ he began as the young man frowned. ‘I need you to do something for me. I need you to take care of your mom, can you do that?’

His voice was lethargic as if all the life had been drained from him, eerily calm and serene considering the circumstances.

‘Where are you going?’ Liam asked, his voice trembling.

‘I’m not sure…’ Neal admitted. ‘Your mom needs some space’ Neal said, sounding like he always did. ‘… and I need to respect that.’

‘Dad, what happened?’ Liam asked, his voice panicked. ‘Did you… hit Mom?’

In his fifteen-year-old mind, that seemed like the most grievous thing his dad could ever do - although Neal knew better. There were so many more horrible ways to hurt someone than to strike them physically.

Neal shook his head in response. Hitting Sara, as despicable as that would have been, was certainly no worse than what he’d actually done. His lack of respect for the woman he loved would have been loathsome at the best of times but in light of Sara’s recent struggle, they were reprehensible and more than that, they were unforgivable.

‘No… I would never strike your mom…’ he said, his voice composed. ‘But I _was_ disrespectful to her and we need some time apart…’

Although his voice was calm, his sombre face and his dejected demeanour spoke volumes and Liam observed his dad’s shaking hands and his tear-filled eyes and he put a hand on his in an effort to reassure him.

Neal pulled away as if he’d just touched a hot poker. He didn't deserve to be comforted, not after the way he’d behaved and his eyes met his son’s gaze, searching for reassurance that he’d been listening.

‘Just make sure she’s all right… please’ he asked as tears started streaming down his face.

WCWCWC

‘Sara?’ Peter called out as he came up the stairs and headed towards the master bedroom.

He spotted her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking like a ghost, staring ahead, eyes vacant and he stood in the doorway for a moment, observing her. He wasn't very good at dealing with women when they were upset - especially when they cried, something he hadn't seen Sara Ellis do very often since he'd met her all those years ago. Except for the night of Hope’s accident, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his best buddy’s wife cry. But this was Sara and even though she seemed stoic and composed, it was obvious she was hurting. There was no way he was leaving the house before making sure she was safe and didn't need immediate help.

‘Sara’ he repeated as she looked up and saw him lurking there.

The sight of Peter seemed to bring on a new wave of emotion and she began to weep quietly as he stepped into the room and took a seat next to her on the edge of the bed.

‘Are you hurt?’ he asked tentatively, bringing his arm around her back in a show of compassion.

Her eyes came up to meet his, dark and empty. ‘No…’ she said. ‘Not physically.’

Peter wasn't quite sure what to make of her response. There were a lot of ways of getting hurt and he wondered momentarily if she might be in shock.

‘Would you like me to ask El to come over and stay with you?’ he asked, solicitous.

‘No… no’ she said, shaking her head adamantly and trying her best to smile through the tears. ‘I’ll be okay. Liam and Caitlin are here…’

‘Sara, do you need to go to the hospital?’ he asked.

He still hadn't pieced everything together and he had a fleeting, horrifying thought, wondering if in a moment of drunken depravity, Neal might have lost control and forced himself on his wife.

‘Sara… did he…’ Peter couldn't quite get the words out. The horror that Neal might have taken advantage of her in that way was too much to fathom.

‘Peter, I just need you to get him out of the house… I promise I’ll go see Marion tomorrow’ she said, hoping to reassure him.

That wasn't much of an answer but Peter sensed he wasn't going to get much more for the time being and he nodded sadly.

‘All right, if you’re sure’ he said, giving in to her request. ‘Sara, call if you need us. No matter what time it is’ he said as he stood.

Sara continued to cry softly. He felt like a creep for leaving her like this.

Despite the bitter disappointment and anger she felt towards her husband, Sara looked up at Peter and took a steadying breath. 

‘Peter…’ she said. ‘Can you please make sure Neal’s all right?’

WCWCWC

Liam and Neal were both standing by the front door when Peter came down the stairs. Although he suspected Neal was still under the influence, he couldn't tell by looking at him. Neal stood, feet firmly planted on the ground, unwavering, his head down, looking like the picture you might find if you looked up the word ‘shame’ in the dictionary.

Neal’s eyes came up to rest on his son and Peter watched as Liam threw his arms around his dad, tears welling up in his eyes.

‘Don’t worry about me. Just… do what I asked you, okay?’ Neal said, his voice shaky as he hugged his son.

Peter could see the pain written on his best friend’s face and he swallowed hard in response to the heartbreaking scene between father and son.

Neal glanced up towards the top of the stairs, fighting with all his might to keep from calling out to his wife. Anything he could think of saying at this point would sound trite, meaningless.

_‘Sara… I love you’_ \- empty words at best, considering what had just happened.

_‘Sara… I’m sorry’_ \- it was much too soon for her to entertain such a lament.

_‘Sara… I’m scum of the earth and I’m going to go hide somewhere for the rest of my miserable life’_ \- a cheap shot at getting undeserved sympathy.

Instead, he chose to keep his mouth shut and he gave his son one last fleeting look at he stepped through the door Peter held open for him.

TBC


	48. Chapter 48

The men had been driving in silence for about ten minutes, having left the turmoil of White Plains behind, when Neal spoke up, his voice urgent.

‘Pull over!’ he called out suddenly as Peter glanced in his direction to see what the problem was.

‘Hurry’ Neal insisted, hand already on the door handle.

Peter pulled over on the quiet road and Neal lurched out of the car, taking a few shaky steps before bending over and emptying the contents of his stomach right there by the side of the road. He remained that way, hands on his knees, seemingly waiting for a second wave of nausea which did not take long to materialize.

Peter watched as Neal slowly straightened up and waited a moment, wavering slightly on his unsteady legs and taking a couple of deep breaths before making his way back to the car, settling in as if nothing had happened.

His face was pale, his hands trembling and he reached into his pocket for a mint. ‘I’m good’ he muttered, his voice shaky as Peter put the car back in motion.

They continued in silence for another little while, Neal cracking down the window to let in the cool June night air. Up ahead, he spotted the turnoff for the Jackie Robinson Parkway and he seemed to hold his breath, waiting to see if Peter would continue on his usual route home.

‘You’re _really_ taking me to your place?’ Neal asked, seemingly surprised. ‘I was half expecting you to drop me off by the side of the road.’

Peter blinked and stared ahead. ‘At least for tonight’ he answered, non committal as he heard Neal scoff.

‘I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d left me back there’ he said with a sad laugh.

Silence resumed, somewhat uncomfortable as both men continued to ignore the elephant in the room - or in this case, the car - namely, why Peter had been summoned to White Plains and why they were out on the roads late on a Thursday night with Neal’s overnight bag in the back seat of the car.

‘You know… I didn't think it was possible but I managed to dig an even deeper hole for myself tonight’ Neal finally admitted.

Peter waited for Neal to continue; he knew his best friend didn't do well with being prodded.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.

‘How was she?’ he asked, his voice quiet. Sara’s wellbeing remained his main concern, despite the fact he'd been the one to cause the turmoil his wife had been experiencing over the past couple of hours.

‘She’s strong’ Peter responded, not giving much away - not that Sara had told him much about what had transpired prior to his arrival.

Neal scoffed once again as the pale glow of the street lights reflected intermittently on his face.

‘Tell me about it’ Neal said, in agreement. ‘Sometimes, I don't know how she puts up with me - or why.’

‘You know she’s _not_ going to put up with your crap much longer, Neal’ Peter said, glancing towards his right.

‘I kind of deduced that when she kicked me out of the house’ Neal responded sardonically.

‘Are you going to tell me what happened?’ Peter asked, the question that had been burning on his lips since they'd left the house.

Neal grew very quiet.

Peter knew that Sara had put up with a lot of Neal’s nonsense over the past couple of months so whatever _this_ was, it was a game-changer considering it had brought about such a fierce, intense reaction on Sara’s part. Kicking one’s spouse out of the house was usually reserved for major altercations such as the discovery of an affair or the revelation of some deep, dark secret… or, possibly, in reaction to a despicable action or declaration that could _not_ be taken back.

’I can’t… not right now’ Neal answered sombrely before waiting a couple of beats and continuing. ‘Let’s just say, I’ve given her a way out… if she decides to take it.’

‘You know Neal, Sara’s never struck me as the type of person who gives up at the first sign of trouble’ Peter said, recalling the many highs and lows in the Caffrey marriage over the years.

‘And neither are you’ he continued. ‘Or should I say, neither _were_ you, until lately.’

Neal raised his eyebrows and sighed. He wasn't sure what had happened to turn him into a quivering bowl of jelly, a spineless shadow of his former self, unable to weather the storm. 

‘This thing… with Hope, I need to let it go, I _know_ that. I’ve just dug a little bit of a hole for myself here, that’s all.’

‘You think so, Sherlock?’ Peter asked with humour before reining in the sarcasm.

‘Neal, that’s what this… meeting is all about on Saturday. Everybody wants to give you a hand up and help you climb out of that hole - ’ Peter began as Neal interrupted.

‘No! I can do this Peter. I can do it on my own’ he said adamantly. ‘Look, I just can’t sit around and listen to all of you rhyming off a litany of the horrible things I’ve done over the past little while… I’m just not up for it. You have to let me do this _my_ way. Plus, I don't think Sara will want to be in the same room as me for a while…’

‘I don’t think that’s necessarily true. Whatever happened tonight… well, I’ve seen Sara forgive a lot of your crap over the years’ he said with a smile.

‘I don’t know Peter. This was… pretty bad and it’s… well, it’s coming on the heels of a lot of other stuff. I know I’ve been a mess since the accident but I literally _can’t_ help myself anymore.’

Peter sighed. He hated seeing Neal this way - so out of control and vulnerable. Neal Caffrey was a strong, capable man who'd overcome incredible odds to build a wonderful life for himself and he wondered momentarily where that man had disappeared to.

‘Neal, give us a chance. Just come and listen to what everybody has to say.’

‘I can’t. I’m sorry. But I promise, I’ll find a way to dig myself out. I have to…’ Neal said.

Peter shook his head in despair. Despite Neal’s wishes, he knew all too well that, even though the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak.

WCWCWC

Elizabeth had been welcoming but Neal had detected a hint of annoyance in her voice and on Friday morning, she lay her cards on the table as the three of them sat having coffee in the Burke dining room.

‘Neal,’ she said, her voice stern. ‘Peter and I have talked it over. You’re more than welcome to stay for a few days IF you come to the intervention tomorrow morning.’

Neal studied her eyes, unwavering. He was starting to feel trapped again and it was a most unnerving feeling for the ex-conman, rekindling unwelcome memories from his earlier life.

‘Otherwise…’ she continued, her voice growing weaker. ‘You’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay.’

Neal stared ahead; that was pretty clear and unequivocal.

‘El, I’m pretty sure Sara doesn't want me there tomorrow’ he said as he thought of how upset his wife had been the night before.

‘That’s where you’re wrong, Neal. I talked to her this morning and she wants to go through with the intervention … and she’s hoping you’ll come’ Elizabeth explained as Peter looked on.

Neal frowned as he took in the news. He wasn't surprised that Sara would find a way to rise above what had happened for what she perceived to be the greater good and yet, he knew this was _not_ about Sara forgiving him or getting past what he'd done the night before. That, he knew, would take a lot longer to get over - if at all.

Despite El’s reassurance, Neal was still not ready to commit and he expertly deflected. ‘I _do_ appreciate you letting me stay here last night’ he said with a forced smile.

He stared down at his coffee cup, noticing his hands shaking. He hadn't had a drink since the night before and he was badly in need of something to calm his nerves.

Elizabeth stood and began to collect the breakfast dishes and Peter and Neal were left alone at the table to stare uncomfortably at each other. Neal gave his best friend a head nod in direction of the living room and the two men stood, making their way towards the front door.

‘Peter… I hate to ask but… look, I really need something to help me start the day’ Neal said as he put out his shaking hands.

Peter glanced towards the kitchen to make sure El wasn't within ear shot. He wasn't surprised at the request, considering all the research he'd been doing lately on alcohol dependence and withdrawal symptoms. He knew that people who'd grown physically dependent needed to wean off the poison they’d grown addicted to, just to stay functional.

‘Go on up to the guest room and I’ll bring you something’ he said reluctantly as Neal nodded.

By the time Peter made it upstairs with a small flask of bourbon, Neal had the overnight bag on the bed and was putting away his toiletries.

‘Are you leaving?’ Peter asked, concerned.

‘You heard your wife’ Neal answered, gratefully accepting the flask and immediately taking a long, fortifying sip.

‘I can’t go to this thing tomorrow’ he stated unequivocally. ‘Don’t ask me to.’

‘Neal….’

Neal put his hand up to stop Peter from continuing. ‘I’m going to find a way, I promise. Just… give me a little more time.’

‘Neal, you’ve _run out_ of time. If you don't come and at least listen… well, things are going to change, buddy. Doors are going to start slamming in your face and you need people around you if you’re going to beat this thing.’

‘I don’t!’ Neal said, loudly. ‘I can do this, I know I can. I just… I need to get away and do this on my own.’

He continued with packing his bag as Peter looked on sadly. He knew Neal was making a mistake trying to go at it alone when he had all the support he could possibly need within his grasp.

‘I think you’re making a terrible mistake, buddy’ Peter said as he handed Neal a piece of paper. ‘This is the time and place… just in case you change your mind.’

Neal glanced at the piece of paper and recognized the address of the New Rochelle offices of Marion Birch.

He scoffed. ‘Great, you’ve even got our therapist involved’ he said bitterly as he took the piece of paper and shrivelled it up, throwing it down on the bed before grabbing his bag and leaving Peter standing there, shaking his head.

WCWCWC

‘Any one of them would be fine, Moz’ Neal said into his phone. ‘Just until I get everything worked out and I can go back home.’

‘I’m sorry Neal, no can do’ came Mozzie’s voice.

‘What are you talking about, Moz? You’ve got seven safe houses.’

‘Neal, the line’s been drawn in the sand. If you don't come to this thing tomorrow, we’re all… well, we’re closing ranks and I can’t go against… the rest of the group.’

Neal’s voice grew angry. ‘You know, I kind of expect this kind of crap from ‘boy scout’ Peter Burke but Moz, you and I…’

’Look, I love you, man, you know that and I’d do anything for you. Well, anything but stand by and watch you self-destruct.’

Neal’s eyes swept the other patrons in the diner where he sat, his blood pressure rising and his annoyance at Mozzie intensifying.

‘What the hell, Moz? Where’s this sentimental drivel coming from?’ he shouted into the phone, his voice impatient.

There was silence on the other end and the waitress returned, staring at Neal as she placed a beer and a sandwich in front of him and suddenly, he was aware he needed to keep his voice down. He was making a spectacle of himself.

‘Thanks for nothing Moz’ he spat angrily before throwing his phone down on the table and grabbing for the beer.

WCWCWC

The walls were closing in on Neal Caffrey. Door after door was closing in his face and he didn't know who to turn to.

The issue of finding a place to stay was merely a nuisance, nothing more. He could stay at any one of a dozen hotels, all within a few miles of the hospital where he planned to keep up his daily visits to Hope. No matter what else was going on in his messed up life, Hope remained his priority and he wasn't about to let her down, no matter what.

He thought of his mom and the hardships she’d endured over her long life and by Friday afternoon, he was sitting in her room at the Blue Skies Nursing Home, hoping for a little bit of empathy from the only person who _really_ knew what he was going through.

‘You’re drunk’ she stated as Neal walked in, slightly unsteady.

‘A little bit’ he admitted as he sat by the bed where she lay. ‘I’m sorry… about not visiting the last couple of weeks.’

‘It’s all right’ she said with a warm smile. ‘Sometimes, we just need to close ourselves off from the rest of the world.’

Neal nodded; she understood what he was going through.

‘But, unfortunately, that usually happens when we need people the most… although we can’t see it at the time’ she added.

‘I’m fine, Mom’ he lied.

‘You’re the _furthest_ thing from fine, honey, but believe me, I get it.

Neal looked down at the woman who had borne him, now a fragile, old lady yet stronger than he'd ever known her in his whole life.

‘You know, Ellen tried to help me… so many times when you were little. She tried to get me into a twelve step program more than once and I kept screwing up, time after time. And all that time, you were growing up, slipping away from me with every passing day.’

Neal watched her eyes fill with tears. ‘You know, that’s my greatest regret in life, that I couldn't pull myself together sooner and share all those years with you. We’ll never get those back.’

He gave her a sad smile; he knew she wasn't just talking about herself. ‘I’ll figure it out, Mom’ he said, taking her hand.

‘I just pray that by the time you do, you’re not left on your own without Sara, the kids, the gallery, the school, your friends… because I know what it’s like to be left with nothing and to have to rebuild a whole new life.’

Neal shook his head, still in denial.

‘Why don't you just come and listen tomorrow? You don't have to say anything, just listen. Everyone who’s going to be there loves you Neal and they want what’s best for you. Is that so hard for you to believe?’

‘No’ he admitted. ‘But it’s not about that. I need to do this on my own and I will. I will.’

Linda’s frail hand came up to rest on her son’s cheek, her eyes full of love.

‘It’s a miracle I was given a second chance with you and I thank God every day that you were able to forgive me and welcome me back into your life. But there are no guarantee you'll get the same opportunity I did. Sometimes, people get tired of waiting and they’re no longer there when you’re finally ready to come back to them.’

‘Oh Mom, you don't know the things I’ve done’ Neal said, his voice breaking. ‘I’ve disappointed Hope and Liam and I’ve hurt Sara in a way I never thought possible…’

‘Honey… you seem to be forgetting about the amazing power of forgiveness. Did you ever think, a year ago, that you would have found it in your heart to forgive me and that we would be sitting here like this?’

In an uncharacteristic show of vulnerability, he brought his head down into his mom’s lap, closing his eyes as he felt her gently running her hand through his hair.

‘Forgiveness is a wonderful gift Neal. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating the people who love you.’

TBC


	49. Chapter 49

‘Thanks for seeing me on such short notice’ Sara said as she took a seat across from Marion Birch.

‘No problem. Your voice sounded terrible on the phone - no offence’ Marion said.

‘I’m sorry… about the voice mail I left. It was late and I was _really_ upset’ Sara confided, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having called her therapist at two in the morning - the equivalent of drunk dialling your ex.

‘So, what’s up? I’m assuming this has something to do with Neal.’

Sara’s face turned serious as she looked her therapist in the eye. ’I threw him out of the house last night’ she stated bluntly.

Marion was unable to hide her surprise. ‘What? Are you all right?’ she asked.

Marion had been a witness to Neal’s descent into alcohol dependency. Sara had continued to meet with her on a weekly basis over the past several months and the women had discussed the issue on many occasions. Whatever had prompted Sara to act so decisively _had_ to be grievous, considering everything she’d been willing to put with since Hope’s accident.

‘Actually, I’m feeling a lot better today… perspective and all that’ Sara admitted, looking composed - and somewhat embarrassed.

‘So… what happened to finally push you over the edge?’ Marion asked.

‘He was drunk… as usual’ Sara began. ‘And he was feeling… frisky.’

‘Didn’t you say you hadn't been intimate since Hope’s accident?’

‘We haven’t… not really but he got it in his head he wanted to have sex and he was being…forceful about it.’

‘Forceful?’ Marion echoed. She’d spent months in therapy with the Caffreys and Neal had been nothing but loving and respectful of his wife from the very first day she’d met him. She was having difficulty imagining him forcing his attentions on his wife, considering everything they’d been through. But alcohol was often at the root of inappropriate behaviour, as she knew all too well.

‘At first, he was being… playful but before long, well… I kept telling him to stop, that it wasn't funny, but he just kept going… I tried pushing him away but he ignored me and I started to get really upset’ Sara explained.

‘Was he… violent?’ Marion asked, concerned for her patient.

‘No’ Sara said. ‘Neal could never be violent but… he just wasn't taking no for an answer and he kept kissing me and crowding me and it didn't feel right. My heart started pounding in my ears and my throat started to close up…’

‘Were you flashing back to the attack?’ the therapist asked.

Sara frowned at the question. Although she’d been fighting flashbacks for months, she had to admit that the incident had left her feeling empowered, not victimized.

‘Fleetingly but… it’s strange. I was upset, really pissed off at Neal for not paying attention to what I was saying. I just couldn't believe he would do that when he knows better than anyone how hard it’s been for me to come back from this.’

‘I’m sensing a ‘but’ Marion said, urging her to continue.

‘Well, that’s the strange part. You remember when Neal and I were working out our intimacy issues…’

Marion nodded as she recalled the long road to recovery Sara had faced.

‘… how I would freak out whenever he touched me and I couldn't get the attack out of my head. Well, it wasn't like that… I mean, I was annoyed and I was getting angry at him but I didn't feel… helpless. How do I put this? It was like I felt empowered… like I was getting a ‘redo’ on what happened before…’ she said, struggling to put her feelings into words.

‘With my attacker, I felt like a victim, I wasn't able to fight back but last night, even though I wasn’t feeling right about what was happening, I found a way to keep control of the situation.’

‘Well, we did work on that a lot in therapy… giving you back your power’ Marion reminded her.

Sara nodded in realization. ‘And I used it last night’ she said. ‘I’m just… I’m _so_ disappointed and angry that Neal would put me in a situation like that.’

Marion listened with interest. What could have been a terrible setback in her recovery had helped Sara realize she had some power over the situation. Unfortunately, the revelation had come at the price of her relationship with her husband and she wondered if it was irreparably damaged or if they would be able to find a way to work it out.

‘So, where does that leave you and Neal? Have you decided _not_ to have the intervention?’ Marion asked.

‘No! No, we need to do it, more than ever. I haven't talked to him since… well, since he left and I don't want him back in the house until we work through what happened last night but the intervention… it’s bigger than all that. Everybody’s on board and I’m hoping he changes his mind at the last minute and shows up.’

‘Sara, I have to say I’m really impressed with how you’re handling all this. But at some point, Neal is going to need to take responsibility for his actions from last night. Being drunk doesn't give you a license to behave recklessly. You need to hold him accountable for what he did. Neal will have a lot to atone for once he decides he’s ready to start healing.’

Sara nodded. ‘Can we just get through tomorrow and see if we can get him into treatment?’ she asked. ‘And then, we can try to work through this latest wrinkle…’

Marion smiled at her patient; she’d always admired Sara Ellis’ strength and determination but never more than she did right at this moment.

‘That sounds like an excellent plan.’

WCWCWC

Right around the time Sara was stepping out of Marion Birch’s office in New Rochelle, Liam Caffrey was arriving at the rehab wing of Bronx Lebanon Hospital. After his dad had left the house the night before, he’d lay in bed for hours, unable to sleep and he’d been waiting all day for classes to end so he could sit and talk to his sister and get her take on things. Now that he was there, he was inexplicably tongue tied and Hope watched as he roamed around her new digs, checking things out.

‘You know I’m really digging this new room’ he said as he toyed with the pulley on one of the pieces of equipment in the room. ‘You’ve got a lot of cool stuff.’

Hope sat up on her bed, dangling her feet joyfully over the edge and watching with interest as the pulley slipped from her brother’s grasp and flew violently through the air, narrowly missing his face as it snapped back into position.

’S-s-s-martass’ she laughed as Liam stepped away from danger and settled in the chair next to her bed.

‘That thing’s lethal’ he declared as he reached into his backpack and surreptitiously handed her a Twizzler.

‘Don’t tell the nurses, huh?’ he whispered as they both giggled and bit gleefully into the piece of candy.

The nursing staff had been on Hope’s case about proper nutrition, forbidding junk food of any kind and Hope was ready to go off the deep end if she didn't get a proper sugar fix - something Liam had been happy to provide.

Hope put her hands up in question. She could tell the moment Liam had walked into her room that he had something on his mind. He'd been pussyfooting around the subject for about ten minutes now and she was starting to lose patience with him.

‘What?’ he asked with a shrug, unsure how to tell her what had happened at home the night before.

She gave him an impatient glare and hit his arm with her Twizzler as he recoiled.

‘Did Dad come by today?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘M-morning’ she said watching his eyes veer from hers.

‘Liiiiiiam!’ she shouted in exasperation. She _knew_ he was holding out on her and her patience was running thin.

‘All right, all right’ he said. ‘Don’t get you knickers in a knot, Mellon girl!’

He stood and walked over to the window, glancing out at the parking lot below, building up the nerve to come clean.

‘Mom kicked Dad out of the house last night’ he finally blurted out, without looking at her.

Hope reacted by pummelling the bed on either side of her with tightly closed fists and she made a move to stand just as Liam moved in, holding her back.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't do _that_ when the nurses aren't here! I don't want to have to pick you up off the floor.’ he scolded as she settled back down.

He hopped up on the bed alongside her, dangling his feet as she’d been doing.

‘Before you ask, I don't _know_ what happened. Mom went downstairs to bring him up to bed and then I heard them fighting and when I came down to see what was going on, Mom said she was fine and she made me go back upstairs. The next thing I knew, she was packing a bag for him and calling Uncle Peter to come over and get him.’

Hope touched her ear with her finger; she wanted to know if he’d heard anything.

‘I didn't hear much. Actually, it sounded like they might be making out at first and then I heard Mom yell something like _‘Stop it!’_ really loud and by the time I came down, Dad was sitting at the table looking like he'd been kicked in the balls, Raffie was hiding under the table with his paws over his head and Mom was just standing there, glaring at Dad.’

Hope turned towards her brother and mimicked swatting his face, silently asking the unthinkable.

‘No, I don't think so. Can _you_ imagine Dad hitting Mom? Ever?’ he asked as Hope shook her head.

She made the universal sign for drinking and waited for his response.

‘Of course he was drunk, Hope. He’s drunk every single night’ Liam said with regret.

She thought she knew her dad better than anyone but he’d been working hard to pull the wool over her eyes since she’d been in the hospital. Except for the day of Liam’s birthday, she hadn't seen him drunk although on a few occasions she’d suspected he'd been drinking when she’d noticed him a little unsteady on his feet, his speech not quite as clear as usual.

She thought back to his visit that morning; she hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary although, in hindsight, he _had_ looked a little more tired than usual.

‘V-Vention?’ she asked.

‘Mom says it’s still on but Auntie Elizabeth says Dad’s refusing to go.’

Liam looked over at his sister, noticing tears forming in her eyes. She was strong and fearless just like their mom; seeing her fall apart like this was unexpected and it made his heart melt. 

‘Oh, Hope’ he said as he put his arm around her. ‘Please don’t cry or I’ll start crying too.’

Hope let herself melt in her baby brother’s arms. She couldn't bear to think of her parents fighting and being apart from each other.

‘I shouldn't have told you…’ Liam said as he ran his hand up and down her arm.

Hope sat up to look at him, her face angry and she raised her pinky finger, reminding him of the pact they’d made not to keep secrets from each other.

‘Tell v-v-vrything’ she said, gathering all the strength she could muster.

‘You’re right’ Liam said with a sad smile. ‘We tell each other everything.’

WCWCWC

The Webster Hotel was a mere eight minute cab ride from Bronx Lebanon Hospital and considering Neal didn't have access to a car, it was his best bet for an easy commute to visit his daughter in rehab. Furthermore, it was only a twenty minute ride to the June Ellington School of Art, not that he was planning on staying at the hotel for any appreciable length of time.

Truth be told, for all his talk of wanting to tackle his drinking problem on his own, he had no concrete plan to do so and for the moment, Neal seemed content to stick to the Peter Pan approach which consisted of waiting for some magic fairy dust to materialize and solve all his problems.

He lay on the bed in the hotel room with only the television for company and cracked open his fourth drink of the night. His plan was to remain relatively clear headed for his visit with Hope in the morning. Practically everyone would be at that god awful intervention and he wanted to take advantage of the situation to spend some quality time with his daughter. He knew she’d be pleased to see him and the last thing he wanted was to be suffering from a mammoth hangover; Hope deserved better than that.

He replayed the conversations he’d had with Peter, Elizabeth, Mozzie and his mom and he thought of the events of the previous night. He’d been fighting with himself all day not to grab the phone and call Sara but he knew he had to let the dust settle before he could go crawling back with his tail between his legs. Earlier in the day, he’d sent Liam a brief text, just to check on him and Sara and he’d been assured that all was well - Neal would have expected nothing less from his son, a sweet boy who was fast becoming a caring young man. He stared down at his phone, bringing up a few recent pictures of Sara he’d taken with the Jordan’s new baby; she still looked as beautiful as ever, her warm smile and bright eyes grinning back at him. He traced her face with his finger, smiling wistfully. Hopefully, she was all right - no thanks to him.

The laugh track from the TV grew louder and Neal snapped him out of his reverie. He poured the contents of the miniature bottle of vodka into the glass of ice he’d brought in from the ice machine and he settled in to sip his drink, waiting for oblivion to kick in.

WCWCWC

‘Hope, what are you still doing up at this hour?’ the night nurse asked as she popped her head into the young woman’s room.

Hope pointed to the pad on her lap and held up her pen.

‘Well, it’s past midnight and you need your sleep, young lady’ the woman said.

Cameron had left about an hour earlier and she’d been toiling away at a new version of her letter to her dad ever since. Her original letter had been written for the intervention and Liam had agreed to read it on her behalf. But now that she suspected her dad wouldn't attend, it was more than likely he’d appear at the hospital in the morning and she had to be ready. She had one last chance to reach out to him and she planned to give it all she had. She’d been struggling with finding the right words, words that would resonate with him and send him on his way to getting the help he so badly needed.

The nurse loomed expectantly over Hope, waiting for her to put away her pen and paper and settle in for the night.

‘No’ Hope answered loudly, shaking her head stubbornly.

The nurse picked up on Hope’s anxiety; whatever it was she was working on was obviously very important to her.

‘Can’t this wait ’till morning?’ the nurse asked, sitting next to her patient on the edge of the bed.

‘C-c-can’t!’ Hope argued. She was so damn frustrated with not being able to talk, especially when she got angry or was being contradicted. The voice in her head let out a few expletives as she stared intently at her caregiver.

The young nurse looked into Hope’s animated eyes and smiled. ‘Is this _really_ that important?’ she asked.

Hope nodded adamantly.

‘Well, how about I give you one more hour and then it’s lights out?’ she asked, sensing her patient’s frustration. ‘Deal?’

‘K’ Hope agreed with relief as she watched the nurse retreat.

She took a deep, cleansing breath, glancing down at the sheet of paper on her lap. Her penmanship was atrocious, it looked like the handwriting of a third grader and these days, it took her ten times longer to write than it used to. She resisted the urge to rip up the sheet of paper and start fresh; she still had lots more to say and only a finite amount of time to get ready.

This was for her dad, her hero and she’d had to do everything she could to keep him from making the worst mistake of his life.

TBC


	50. Chapter 50

Saturday morning dawned, sunny and bright with a promise of better days ahead. Sara woke to an empty bed and thoughts of Neal. She knew from talking to Elizabeth that her husband hadn't spent the night with them in Brooklyn and she wondered where he was on this Saturday morning and if his thoughts were of his family as he woke in a strange bed. Although El had warned her not to be overly optimistic, Sara was still holding out hope that Neal would come to his senses and show up at the intervention. Any other scenario was just too overwhelming and she hadn't allowed herself to think about the actions they would inevitably have to take if he was a no-show - actions that would change their lives in ways she couldn't even fathom.

She grabbed for her phone on the night table and stared down at it for a moment, making her decision. She didn't want their altercation from the other night to be the defining factor in whether or not Neal showed up at the intervention. Knowing her husband as she did, he had likely rationalized not attending for a hundred different reasons; she didn't want what had happened between them to be one of those reasons.

_‘I hope you’ll come this morning’_ she typed as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating to say more. By force of habit more than anything else, her finger reached for the heart emoticon she always used to end her texts to Neal and she pressed hastily before she changed her mind. With that, she jumped out of bed and into the shower.

By the time she came downstairs, both the kids were sitting at the kitchen table in front of their bowls of cereal. She flashed back to two nights before, seeing Neal sitting there, totally dejected as he suddenly became aware of the repercussions of his actions. Somewhere underneath all that pain and guilt was the man she loved and despite her anger and disappointment, Sara could already feel a glimmer of forgiveness beginning to tug at her heartstrings.

‘Are we picking up Grandma?’ Caitlin asked as she looked up bleary-eyed.

‘No’ Sara replied, reaching for a mug of coffee. ‘They’re bringing her over by adapted transport.’

‘What’s that?’ Liam piped up, between bites.

‘It’s just a special bus that accommodates wheelchairs. They’re dropping her off at 10:00’ Sara explained. ‘Are you two ready… I mean with your letters.’

The two teens nodded. ‘What’s the point, though?’ Caitlin asked. ‘Mrs. Burke said Mr. C wasn't even coming.’

Sara took a seat at the table and smiled sadly. ‘She did but… let’s not give up on him quite yet.’

‘What happens if he doesn't come, Mom?’ Liam asked, not for the first time.

Sara took a deep breath. ‘Well, if he doesn't come, then we need to have a different kind of conversation and we’re going to need to decide what kind of a relationship we’re prepared to have with your dad.’

‘Will Mr. C still teach at the school?’ Caitlin asked with worry. ‘Will he come back to live here?’

Those were the same questions Sara had been asking herself ever since they’d decided to have the intervention. She looked at Caitlin’s sad face, reaching out to brush her bangs out of her eyes as she smiled at the teen. She certainly didn't need any more turmoil in her life.

‘I don’t know the answer to those questions, honey. We’re all learning as we go, here. But one thing is for certain, none of us can go back to the way things were’ she said as she looked down at her coffee, suddenly without appeal. She stood, unable to sit still any longer, and she put on her brave Sara Ellis face.

‘Look, be ready’ she said, back to business. ‘We’re leaving in ten minutes.’

WCWCWC

Miles away, in room 302 of the Webster Hotel, Neal was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d been awake since 5:00, unable to get back to sleep as he thought of the day ahead with worry and trepidation. Despite everyone’s urging, he still couldn't bring himself to attend the intervention and it began to dawn on him that he would be at the mercy of the decisions his loved ones might make in his absence.

That probably meant that he wouldn't be welcome back home for the foreseeable future and that his relationships with all those he loved would be altered in some undesirable way. He thought about the gallery and his friendship with Peter which was so intricately linked to their work life. How might that change? What about his relationship with Liam and Hope - if he wasn't able to get his drinking under control, would his own children refuse to spend time with him? Then, there was his mom; she’d only been back in his life a short time - would she pull away from him when they’d just barely begun to rebuild their relationship after all those years apart? And most of all, Sara. Would she turn her back on him? What kind of ultimatum might she give him and would he be able to rise to the occasion in order to save his marriage?

It seemed like a no brainer. A life without Sara, without the kids, without Peter and Mozzie… it was unfathomable and yet, he knew his refusal to attend the intervention would force their hand and that he would have to live with the consequences - at least until he was ready to make some significant changes in his life.

Truth was, he didn't have a clue how to attack the problem. It was a classic chicken and egg scenario: he couldn’t function properly until he had a drink and when he drank to excess, he could no longer function. What had begun as a coping mechanism to get him through those first few weeks following the accident had now taken over his life and his body had become unable to function without its daily dose of poison.

How the hell had he ended up here and what was the first step in getting out of this mess he'd created for himself? 

Whether it was in response to those probing questions or merely a physical reaction to alcohol withdrawal, Neal began to feel the now familiar anxiety rising in the pit of his stomach. It could only be resolved with a couple of good stiff drinks and he was just about to investigate what was left in the room’s mini fridge when his phone vibrated on the bedside table. He sat up, the all too familiar headache pounding away and with shaking hands, he grabbed for the phone, forcing his eyes to focus.

He let out a long, slow breath as he read the text from Sara, noting the little red heart attached to the text, as always. His eyes remained riveted on the emoticon and a smile spread to his lips as he tried in vain not to read too much into it. At least Sara hadn't attached the vulgar pile of crap emoticon - not that he was deserving of anything more.

The fact that she was willing to momentarily overlook what had happened between them came as no surprise; his wife, although quick to anger was a very forgiving woman once she got out of her own way. He slipped out of bed and made a quick detour to the bathroom before returning to check out the situation in the mini bar. He’d practically depleted it the night before and he reflected on the fact he’d need to pick up yet another flask and some fresh supplies from the liquor store.

But before all that, he wanted to pay Hope a visit. Everyone who was close to him was likely congregating in the Family Health Centre in New Rochelle and it was his job to make sure his daughter was all right. It was the least he could do.

WCWCWC

Marion was setting up the room when Sara arrived with the kids in tow. The meeting room was designed for just such gatherings with comfortable couches and chairs arranged in a circle, perfectly laid out for such agonizing exchanges. One could easily mistake the set up of the room for a book club or some other festive social gathering and yet, the discussions they were preparing to have were difficult and much too real. 

‘How are you feeling today?’ Marion asked as she brought her hand to Sara’s back.

Sara nodded and smiled. ‘I’m still hoping he’ll show’ she said, her voice quiet.

There was a commotion at the door and everyone turned to see Linda Bennett being wheeled into the room by a burly young man.

Caitlin was instantly on her feet. ‘Grandma!’ she shrieked as she threw her arms around the old woman’s neck.

‘Good morning, sweetie’ Linda responded as Liam came over to place a much more sedate kiss on her cheek. ‘Hi Grandma.’

Within minutes, Peter and El arrived, followed by Mozzie who eyed the place suspiciously and proceeded to carry out a not so subtle visual check of the room for hidden cameras and microphones. Sara half expected him to take out his bug scanner but the little man seemed to settle and he took a spot on the couch next to his godson and hugged the young man in greeting. Cameron was the last to arrive and everyone helped themselves to something to eat as they settled down, strategically leaving a spot for Neal on one of the couches right between Peter and Linda.

The tension was palpable as Marion called everyone to order. They’d agreed to spend the first hour going over strategy as they waited for Neal to arrive. Marion had reiterated the importance of them all being on the same wavelength. One of the most important elements of a successful intervention, she’d explained, was for everyone to stand united, not _against_ their loved one but against the invisible enemy that had robbed them of their loved one.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the room as everyone settled down.

‘Who would like to start?’ Marion asked.

WCWCWC

It was a beautiful early summer day and Neal decided to walk to the hospital. It would do him good, help him focus and allow the alcohol to finish doing its job. Walking into Hope’s hospital room meant summoning his inner conman persona, something he could still manage with a little effort and concentration. Hope didn’t need to know that he’d woken up alone and hung over in a hotel room, that his first thought upon waking was where his next drink was coming from or that he’d fallen asleep shit faced as he did most nights. And she sure as hell didn't need to know he’d acted so despicably towards her mother and that she’d kicked him out of their home two nights before.

‘Good morning!’ he called out joyfully as he stepped in to find his daughter sitting up in bed. 

Hope could play the game too and she gave him a brilliant smile and put her arms out to hug him. ‘Daddy!’

He noted the look of surprise on her face and proceeded to explain his impromptu visit. ‘I was going to put in a few hours at the school and I thought I’d pay you a little visit first. What? No Cam this morning?’ he asked, fishing for information.

Surely, she didn't know about the intervention; that would just upset her at a time when she needed to focus her energies on rebuilding her strength.

She shook her head in response and Neal began poking around, noticing some flowers on the windowsill which hadn't been there the day before.

‘Are these from him?’ he asked, sniffing the bouquet gerberas.

Hope nodded and smiled, inviting him to take a seat.

‘Nice. So, are you getting used to the new room?’ he asked, taking a seat next to the bed and noticing her clutching something in her hand.

‘What have you got there?’ Neal asked as he leaned in to see what was in her hand.

‘For y-y-you’ she said as he frowned. She didn't have a whole lot of time to waste if she was going to accomplish her mission. The intervention was set to begin in less than an hour and she was determined to get him there, come hell or high water.

She reached out her hand, inviting him to take the letter and he shrugged, feeling oddly apprehensive.

‘What’s this? Your Christmas wish list?’ he joked, making light of his unease.

He unfolded the piece of paper, noting a lengthy text written in childlike script and his heart broke at the realization that she must have worked long and hard to get this letter on paper. His eyes came up to look at her questioningly and Hope pointed to the letter, urging him to start reading. He felt a sudden shiver. What was it Hope needed to tell him that was so urgent.

Despite his unease, he settled back and began to read silently.

_Dear Daddy,_

_I wish I could say these words out loud instead of you having to read them. Soon, I’ll be talking a mile a minute again and you’ll be teasing me, wishing I would just shut up already._

Neal let out a small chuckle and peeked over the top of the sheet of paper, raising his eyebrows in agreement. Just like her mother, she’d been blessed with a dry wit. His eyes returned to the letter and his face immediately grew serious as he continued to read.

_Since the accident, I know you’ve been hiding things from me but you really should know better.I’m way too smart for that, Dad - you’re the one who’s always telling me that - and my voice might be silent but my eyes and ears are wide open._

Hope examined her dad’s face, hoping she’d struck the right chord. Above all else, she didn’t want to antagonize him or be forced to watch him withdraw and slip away. 

_From the day I was born, you’ve watched over me and you’ve protected me. But there’s something you need to know. I don't need you to protect me any more. What I_ **_do_ ** _need is your love and understanding, your support, your encouragement and sometimes your money but I no longer need you to watch over me and keep me safe._

Hope saw a small smile grace her dad’s lips and when he gazed up at her, she could see tears forming in his eyes.

‘K-keep reaaaa…ding’ she admonished as his eyes returned to the letter. 

_When I went away to university, I took that important first step towards a life of my own, away from the safety net of home. And it’s true, it’s not always easy but you and Mom taught me well and thanks to the two of you, I am more than ready to face the world._

A smile appeared on his lips and Hope noticed Neal swallowing, trying to keep his emotions in check.

_What happened on that horrible night was a freak accident and nothing more. Unfortunately, it set off a chain of events that has left us both struggling, each in our own way. Daddy, I’m fighting as hard as I can to get better and now it’s time for you to let go of the guilt you’ve been feeling and get the help you need so you can get better too. You’ve developed an alcohol addiction, Dad. It’s a disease, no less a disease than my brain injury or my broken bones._

Hope watched as Neal’s eyes pulled away from the letter, staring down at his hands as he tried to collect himself. She hoped her words were having the desired effect and she reached out to touch his hand as his eyes rose and met hers.

‘Dad…’ she said breathlessly as he blinked a few times to chase the threatening tears away and forced himself to continue.

_You’ve always been my hero Daddy and I need you, I need you to stand by me and support me but if you want to be there for me, you have to start by helping yourself first. T_ _here are a bunch of people who love you very much, sitting in a room not far from here, waiting to welcome you with open arms and give you the support you need so you can get better. Please, Daddy, I’m begging you, go to them. Because if you don’t, you’ll continue to get sucked down this black hole you’ve fallen into and we’ll be lost to each other for good. And that would hurt so much more than any of the pain I’ve endured over the past few months. Please Daddy. Do it for me, do it for us. Please._

Neal let out a choked laugh as he read the last line, noticing the tears had begun to escape down his cheeks. He self consciously wiped his eyes and smiled at his daughter, so astute, so wise.

‘How come you’re so smart?’ he asked his voice shaky.

She grinned broadly and shrugged, eliciting a sincere chuckle from her dad.

‘So?’ she asked, a small word yet so full of meaning.

When he reached out to hug her, she heard his soft voice, whispering in her ear. ‘Okay, I’ll go.’

TBC


	51. Chapter 51

Once her dad left her hospital room, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from Hope’s slim shoulders and she burst into tears - tears of pain for his suffering, tears of relief for his willingness to start looking to the future, tears of hope that her dad might find his way back to them.

He could have reacted in so many ways, ranging from anger and rage to humiliation and bitterness but he’d chosen the high road and he’d listened to what she’d had to say, responding with love and understanding. The rest was out of her hands now. She just hoped he wouldn't start second guessing himself on the way over there - or heaven forbid, decide to drink himself blind in order to face the intervention.

She wiped her eyes and reached for her phone on the bedside table, noticing her hands were shaking. It was time to let them know he was on his way.

WCWCWC

‘And what about you, Caitlin?’ Marion Birch asked. ‘What is it _you’d_ like to say to Mr. Caffrey?’

Caitlin Somersby’s eyes went from Sara to Linda before looking back at the therapist. ‘I just don't want to hurt his feelings’ she mumbled as she looked down at the piece of paper in her hands.

Marion gave her a kind smile. ‘I understand that but we talked about this, remember? As long as things are said in a respectful manner, it’s important you tell him how his drinking is affecting you and how you _really_ feel.’

Caitlin cleared her throat before speaking. ‘Well, Mr. C has done so much for me. I… I wasn't very nice to him in the beginning’ she admitted as she thought back to the false accusations of sexual assault she’d made against him, all those months ago.

Sara brought her hand to the young girl’s head, smoothing her hair as she spoke. ‘Honey, he forgave you for that, a long time ago’ she said kindly.

‘I know… but still, I was a brat back then - ’ Caitlin began.

Liam couldn't help himself and he scoffed loudly as everyone glared at him for his spontaneous - and inappropriate - reaction to her use of the past tense.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a dirty look before continuing. ‘He’s just done so much for me. Letting me come to the art school and inviting me to live in your house. I don't want him to think I don't appreciate everything he’s done for me.’

‘How _does_ his drinking affect you?’ Marion asked, once again.

The teen shrugged. ‘I’ve seen my mom drunk or stoned so many times but Mr. C… well, it’s not the same. I know he’s just really upset about what happened to Hope and he’s lost control of his drinking… I just worry social services might make me leave the house if they find out what’s going on and I… I don't want to have to leave. You’re the only family I’ve ever had.’

‘Oh, Caitlin. Nobody’s going to make you leave, don't worry about that’ Sara said as she realized just how many different ways Neal’s drinking had been detrimental to their family.

For better or for worse, Caitlin was now an integral part of that family and Sara needed to take her needs into consideration just as much as Liam’s or Hope’s.

‘I think you need to tell him that. I’m not sure he fully realizes how his behaviour is affecting you and what you’re worried about’ Marion instructed.

‘Mozzie?’ Marion said. ‘You’ve been awfully quiet. What are you planning on sharing with Neal?’

Mozzie eyed the woman suspiciously. He’d only met her once, just recently, and although he knew she was there at Sara’s request, he was leery about sharing his intimate relationship with Neal with a virtual stranger. But the stakes were high and he knew he had to be fully invested in the process if they were going to get Neal the help he so desperately needed.

‘Neal’s behaviour is affecting his kids’ Mozzie said, deflecting, as he glanced over towards his godson. ‘I don't want him to jeopardize his relationship with them…’ he said, looking terribly ill at ease.

‘But what about _your_ relationship with him? Has Neal’s drinking affected _you_?’ the therapist repeated.

Liam gave his uncle Moz an encouraging nod and Mozzie decided in for a penny, in for a pound.

‘Neal’s always been the one who keeps me grounded’ he admitted, somewhat embarrassed. ‘He keeps me from going off the deep end and he helps me keep my anxiety in check.’

Peter gave Elizabeth a furtive glance; if it hadn't been for Neal’s calming influence in his life, who knows how many times Mozzie might have gone off the deep end and acted on his countless conspiracy theories.

‘I miss… that’ Mozzie continued.

Marion got the feeling there was so much more to the story than what the strange little man was letting on but no doubt Neal would be able to fill in the blanks when the time came for Mozzie to share his feelings with him.

Sara glanced at her watch and let out an anxious sigh. She was suddenly overcome with doubt and despite her earlier optimism, she was beginning to lose faith that Neal was actually going to show up.

‘He’s not coming, is he?’ she asked rhetorically as she looked over at Linda.

Marion spoke up and gave her patient a reassuring smile. ‘Why don't we give him a little more time?’ she suggested. ‘It’s just a little after eleven.’

Cameron’s phone vibrated and Marion gave him a look of reprimand; they had agreed to turn off their phones for the duration of the intervention. He shrugged; he needed to stay in touch with the gallery, just in case.

But it _wasn't_ the gallery and a smile broke out on his face as he spoke.

‘It’s Hope’ he announced to everyone in attendance as he read the brief text. ‘She says her dad’s on his way over!’

WCWCWC

Neal sat in the cab on the way to New Rochelle, trying not to overthink his decision. Reading Hope’s letter had been an eye-opening and humbling experience. She was going through so much, remaining positive through it all and yet, despite the challenges she faced, she’d managed to see things from his perspective. She’d shown incredible insight into the pain he’d been feeling since the accident, going so far as to compare his anguish with her own struggle to get back on her feet.

How had he and Sara managed to raise such an amazing young woman? She was wise beyond her years, encompassing all that was wonderful about Sara - her combativeness, her determination, her perseverance to say nothing of her wicked sense of humour. But she had none of those hard edges Sara had worked so hard to soften over the years. Instead, she’d managed to temper that determination and fortitude with a gentler, creative side and undying compassion for others, something she’d definitely inherited from him.

He glanced out the car window, noticing the world continuing to turn without him - people going about their business, running errands, meeting with friends. He’d felt disconnected from the world ever since the accident, going through the motions at home and at work without any of the joy he'd felt just a few short months ago. He wanted it back, all of it, the ups and downs, the daily struggles, the laughter, the tears. Most of all, he missed Sara, her dry wit, her warm body, the teasing, the intimacy. It was what made life so rich, bearable when things got tough and exponentially better when things were good.

He thought ahead to who would waiting for him at the intervention, wondering what would come of it. No doubt he would be called upon to make some changes in order to maintain the relationships in his life. Hope was right; if she could face the curve ball life had thrown at her, surely he could rise above the challenges of leaving this horrible, nasty addiction behind him. He hoped there would be some concrete path to recovery because, at the moment, he didn't have the first idea how to go about it.

He took out the flask that what in his breast pocket and took one last gulp of liquid courage, just enough to shake off the doubts and smooth those rough edges and he braced himself to hear some hard truths from his loved ones.

WCWCWC

Peter and Liam paced in front of the New Rochelle Family Centre, waiting for Neal to arrive. They’d been voted by the group to act as Neal’s welcoming committee and their eyes anxiously scanned up and down the street, waiting for a cab to appear.

‘You okay, Liam?’ Peter asked as they waited in the warm June sunshine.

‘Yeah’ he replied although every other part of his body screamed ‘no’.

‘I know this isn't easy - confronting someone you love’ Peter said with empathy. It was damn hard for him and he could only imagine how his young nephew would be feeling about confronting his beloved dad.

‘I just don’t want my relationship with Dad to suffer because of the things I tell him’ Liam admitted.

‘He needs to face some hard truths and you can’t protect him from that. In the end, hearing the truth is exactly what your dad needs in order to move ahead’ Peter responded wisely.

Liam nodded. He knew his uncle was right but it didn't make things any easier.

Peter chuckled and Liam looked over to see what had elicited such a reaction from him.

‘You know, it’s ironic. All of us have been working like crazy for a week to get your dad to see sense and agree to come to this thing… and it’s Hope, who can't talk at the moment, who managed to convince him.’ Peter said as he shook his head in disbelief.

‘How do you suppose she did it?’ he asked his nephew.

Liam laughed. ‘I gave up trying to figure out my sister a long time ago. But she has this way of getting through to Dad that… well, to tell you the truth, none of us quite know _how_ she does it.’

‘You know, your dad loves you both so much… but it’s true, he and Hope have this bond that I’ve never quite understood myself. And frankly, I’ve always been a little bit envious’ Peter admitted.

A cab slowed down and the two men looked up, expecting Neal to step out. They let out a long slow breath as a woman in a business suit climbed out and leaned in to the passenger’s side of the car to pay the driver.

‘You don't think he’s changed his mind between the hospital and here, do you?’ Liam asked, suddenly worried.

‘I doubt it. If he told Hope he was coming, he wouldn't want to let her down.’ Peter answered. ‘By the way… I suppose _you’re_ the mole.’

‘Mole?’ Liam repeated, feigning innocence.

‘Don’t play innocent with me. I thought we were keeping her in the dark about how bad things were with your dad, that’s all’ Peter said.

‘Dad’s not the only one Hope can wrap around her little finger’ Liam admitted shyly. ‘We just agreed a long time ago that when it came to Mom and Dad, we wouldn't keep any secrets from each other.’

Peter nodded in agreement. ‘I get it. I think that’s very smart of the two of you. Siblings need to stick together.’

Another cab drove up and this time, Neal’s silhouette could be seen, leaning over in the back seat, ostensibly to pay the driver. They watched as he stepped out into the sunshine, giving them both an unassuming shrug and a small wave. Liam moved towards him, arms outstretched.

‘Dad, I’m so glad you’re here’ he said as he gave him a warm hug.

‘Me too’ Neal admitted as he held his son, eyes meeting Peter’s.

Peter’s hand came to rest on Neal’s back. ‘We’re _all_ really glad you made it’ he added as Neal smiled nervously.

‘Come on, everybody’s inside’ Peter added as he brought his arm around Neal’s shoulder and led him into the building.

WCWCWC

Sara paced as she waited inside. What if Neal had changed his mind? What if he’d panicked on the way over? What if he’d stopped somewhere to get a drink and showed up falling down drunk?

Just a few short months ago, she would have been able to predict with almost one hundred percent certainty how her husband would react in any given situation and now… she didn't have a clue what to expect. She wasn't quite sure _what_ their daughter had to do with all this. They had all worked so hard to protect her and keep her out of the loop as far as Neal’s woes were concerned. But she had a feeling Liam had something to do with it and at the moment she couldn't have been happier that he'd broken the pact they'd made. If it meant there was hope that Neal would come back to them, his indiscretions would gladly be forgiven.

The door to the meeting room opened and there, flanked by Peter and Liam, stood Neal, looking very much like the lost soul he was at the moment. His eyes swept the room, looking at all the anxious faces, Marion Birch, his mom, Cameron, Elizabeth, Caitlin, Mozzie and his eyes rested on Sara as he stared for a moment, his gaze hesitant, unsure what to expect. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been so angry and hurt, unable to bear the sight of him and yet, here she stood, a tender look on her face, relief in her eyes and she took a tentative step towards him, almost as if she was debating what to do.

He stood, motionless, his eyes still riveted on hers and everyone seemed to hold their breath for a moment, watching as the couple tried to read each other’s minds. She bridged the distance between them and suddenly, her arms were around his neck as he let out a huge sigh and pulled her in tightly, his face falling to the crook of her neck.

‘I’m _so_ glad you’re here’ she murmured as he held her close, relief flooding him.

They pulled apart briefly and looked into each other’s eyes, tears streaming down their faces. ‘I am still _so_ damn mad at you Caffrey…’ she whispered, her voice trembling. ‘But I’ve never been happier to see you.’

TBC


	52. Chapter 52

Peter cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the room as everyone observed Neal and Sara’s warm embrace. As angry as Sara was at her husband for his momentary lapse in judgement - and make no mistake about it, she was still royally pissed - it was obvious to everyone in attendance that these two would ultimately find a way to work things out, however long that might take.

For Liam, in particular, seeing his parents locked in a loving embrace was reassuring and he let out a sigh of relief as he exchanged knowing glances with his uncle Mozzie.

‘Why don't we all take a seat?’ Marion Birch suggested as Neal and Sara pulled apart, his hand reaching out resolutely to latch on to hers.

Her intention had been to sit across from him, partly to create some needed distance between them but also so she could better gauge his reaction to everyone’s comments. But she didn’t have the heart to pull away and as he tugged at her insistently, she realized he needed her to be his anchor as he prepared to listen to the hard truths his loved ones were about to share with him.

She gave in, somewhat reluctantly, and they settled in side by side on one of the couches, with Liam on the other side of his dad as everyone took their place around the circle. Neal’s eyes went from one face to the next, acknowledging everyone’s presence and, as his gaze came to rest momentarily on his mom’s face, he gave her a warm, yet sad smile.

‘Hi Mom’ he said quietly, surprised yet pleased to see her there, considering her frail condition.

Although he'd resisted coming to the intervention, he began to relax, relieved to see the familiar faces of those he loved willing to close ranks around him when he was at his most vulnerable.

‘Neal, we’re really happy you decided to join us’ Marion said as everyone remained quiet. ‘We know how difficult it must have been for you to come.’

Neal cleared his throat as he listened to her words. He knew her well from their months of therapy and he trusted her. He pulled Sara’s hand up against his body as if to anchor himself. No matter what had transpired two nights before, he had no doubts as to the depth of her love and commitment and knowing she was there by his side made everything a little bit easier to bear.

‘We know you’ve been struggling lately and everyone here wants to share their feelings with you. You don’t have to say anything. We’d just like you to listen and then when everybody’s had their turn, we have a proposal for you. Is that all right with you?’ she asked, addressing Neal directly.

Unable to speak, he nodded as his eyes swept the room, apprehensive as to what he was about to hear. He knew better than anyone that his actions had been less than stellar and he cringed as he thought of the pain and worry he was causing those he loved the most.

‘Who would like to start?’ Marion asked. Although they’d agreed that Liam would be the first to speak - mostly because he couldn't wait to get it over with - she wanted to give him the chance to bail if he wasn't quite ready. Her question became unnecessary when Liam turned towards his dad, immediately to his right, as he spoke.

‘I can start’ he said, his voice uncertain.

The proverbial pin could be heard dropping as Neal took a deep breath and looked at his son, his hand still firmly clutching Sara’s arm for support.

‘Dad…’ Liam began as he looked down at his notes, unable to look his father straight in the eye. ‘I love you… You’ve always been there for me when I needed you and you’ve supported me through… so many things. I know I can be a little… laid back sometimes and I don't always tell you, but I love it when we spend time together. I love that you’re the only dad on the team who comes to _all_ my basketball practices, even if I’m always telling you that you _really_ don't need to.’

A couple of chuckles were heard and Neal’s hand came to rest on his son’s knee as he made eye contact with him.

‘And I love that you sit and watch hockey games with me at home even though you don't really like hockey all that much… and that you take me to Rangers’ games and that you’re always ready to hang out, even when I know you’ve got a lot of other stuff you could be doing.’

Neal smiled at his son through the familiar sting of tears in his eyes as he waited for the inevitable ‘but’ he could feel building. It didn't take long in coming.

‘But lately… I’ve been really worried. I always thought I could tell you anything but when you came to get me at school and you’d been drinking… well, I panicked and I didn't know what to do and I couldn't ask you and that was scary, because usually I can talk to you about anything. And when you came to the hospital on my birthday, I was _really_ mad at you. I know I told you it wasn't a big deal but it was. I was angry that you would do that… especially in front of Cody because you know how much he means to me. It was embarrassing and… for the first time in my life, I…’

Liam stopped, wondering if he was going too far but his eyes met Marion Birch’s and she nodded for him to continue.

‘I wished you weren't my dad… because the dad I’ve always known would never do something like that to me. And then, the other night… when you and Mom were fighting… I got scared and I didn't know what to do… I just don’t know anymore what you’ll say or what you’ll do when you’ve been drinking.’

Neal let out a soft gasp and swallowed as he listened.

‘Dad, we need you back. Me and Mom and Hope’ he said as he looked down at his letter.

This was the hardest part, telling his dad where he stood if he didn't get help to deal with his problem.

‘I know that this is a disease and that you’re not doing any of this to hurt me but the truth is, it _does_ hurt me and I… I think too much of myself to let you keep hurting me this way.’

Neal frowned as he listened, his grasp on Sara’s arm gently easing as he took in the weight of Liam’s words. His whole life had been about doing what was right for his kids and the realization that he’d let his son down was more than he could take. 

Liam continued, undeterred, despite the fact he was sobbing as he spoke. ’Dad, if you don’t agree to get help, I… I don’t want you in my life. I need to stay positive with school and my sports and everything else and I don't want to spend all my time worrying about whether you’re going to do something stupid or something that’s going to hurt me or Mom or Hope…’

Neal opened his mouth to speak and Marion put her hand up before he could get a sound out.

‘Neal, why don't you let Liam finish what he wants to say?’

Liam wiped his eyes and nodded. ‘That’s pretty much it. Dad… please get some help because the truth is, I really _do_ want you in my life’ he concluded.

Mozzie, who was sitting on the other side of Liam, reached out to grab his shoulder and squeezed as the teen wept softly to Neal’s total despair. He’d hurt his beloved son in ways he could never imagine and he felt the tears running down his face as he sat, transfixed, incapable of speaking coherently.

Peter and Elizabeth sat across from Neal and Peter’s deep voice was heard as everyone stopped to listen and give Liam a chance to recover.

‘Neal, El and I love you. You know that’ he said with a smile. ‘You’ve been my best friend for going on twenty years… hell, who am I kidding? I’ve thought of you as my best friend even before… when we worked together at the Bureau.’

With Caitlin and Cameron in the room, he weighed his words carefully, not wanting to allude to Neal’s status as a criminal informant in front of them, Although everyone else in attendance knew of Neal’s past, to Peter’s knowledge Cam didn't know and he knew for a fact that Caitlin didn’t. Despite what was happening, Neal had earned the right to keep his past private if that’s what he wanted and Peter needed to respect that.

‘You and I have been through so much’ Peter continued, leaning towards Neal. ‘And working together at the gallery… well, it’s like a dream come true, it’s been amazing, being able to spend time with you every day and sharing our lives with each other… all four of us. But buddy, you’ve been on a dangerous path ever since the accident and I… well, El and I, we can’t sit by and watch you self destruct. We just won’t do it. If you don't get the help you need, I’m going to sell my part of the business and… well, I don't think we can be a part of your life if you decide to go on like this.’

Neal stared ahead, shocked. How could he not have seen the extent to which his drinking had affected his friendship with Peter, the one person he’d always been able to count on and who had forgiven him so much over the years.

Peter checked his notes as El brought her arm around his shoulder in a show of solidarity. ‘And I’ve been protecting you. When you were stopped by the police, I agreed to help you keep it from Sara and that was wrong. And, I haven't wanted to upset you but… well, they’ve made an arrest. The person who hit Hope was a drunk driver…’

‘What?’ Neal said, under his breath.

‘That could have been _you_ , Neal. And to be honest… I don't know who you’ve become lately. What if _you’d_ hit someone’s daughter when you were out driving under the influence?’

Neal’s face dropped in his hands as he began to weep. The thought of inflicting the pain he'd had to endure on someone else seemed unfathomable.

The room grew quiet once again yet the emotion was palpable, an uneasy weight settling on all of them as feelings were shared and pain was laid bare in the bright, unforgiving light of day. Neal sat in silence as he absorbed what he was hearing, the anguish obvious on his face.

Sara remained stoic. It would have been all too easy to put her arms around him, to comfort him but this was not the time to cave in to her feelings for Neal. As difficult as it was to watch him suffer, she needed to hold back and let it all unfold. He, alone, had made the decisions that had led them to this point and he, alone, needed to bear responsibility for those poor decisions. To shield him from this realization would only serve to give him a free pass at a time when he needed to face up to the pain he’d unwittingly caused with his reckless actions.

Marion waited to proceed while Neal tried to collect himself.

He felt his stomach lurch. He longed for a drink to help stifle the intense emotions which had been unleashed and for a brief moment, he considered getting up and walking out. But an unexplainable force kept him riveted in his seat, compelled to listen to the truth, the ugly, painful truth. He looked over at Marion, his face red and blotchy, his shoulders slumped and he forced himself to sit up straight, signalling he was ready to go on.

‘Who would like to speak next?’ the therapist asked as Linda Bennett nodded.

Her voice, when she began to speak, was so soft that everyone leaned in to hear her. The oxygen tank attached to her chair kept churning away quietly, providing her with the strength needed to do what she was about to do: tell her son some hard truths about the pain he was inflicting on those he loved. Caitlin sat by her side, her arm wrapped around her beloved grandmother and providing the support the woman needed.

‘Neal…’ she began breathlessly. ‘I know I’m in a very dubious position to be giving you advice or putting any conditions on our relationship. Thanks to your love and forgiveness, I’ve just barely come back into your life after almost forty years apart, years where I’ve struggled with alcohol and drug abuse so… the irony of this is not lost on me. But one thing I _do_ know is exactly how you’re feeling right now because I’ve been there myself. The only thing I want to say is that I love you and so does everyone else in this room. By the time I was finally able to face my demons, I had already lost everything that was good in my life, including you… but you’re lucky, you still have everyone’s love and support and that means you have so much more to lose if you don't get yourself out of this mess.’

Neal stared at his mom in wonder. At first glance, she might look like the weakest, most fragile person in the room yet he knew she was by far the strongest, having overcome incredible odds to get herself sober in the hopes of getting back all she’d lost.

She continued, her voice barely audible. ‘I know how hard it is, how tempting it is to self medicate so you don’t have to face those emotions that are just too painful to face but in doing that, you’re also stifling all those wonderful feelings and you’re putting every single relationship you have at risk. I’ll be there for you when things get tough, Neal, but I won’t watch you drift away, not a second time…’

Neal looked at her sadly; he’d been so unfair to her. All she wanted was for him to be happy and yet, he’d callously thrown her own addiction in her face in an effort to deflect away from his own weakness. 

There was more to come and Neal braced himself as Mozzie piped up.

‘Neal, I’m worried about you, man. I know I was the one who said happy endings weren’t for guys like us but… well, you proved me wrong and I hate to see you throw it all away’ Mozzie said. ‘You showed me that you can have anything you want if you’re ready to let go of something else. It’s time to put your money where your mouth is, Neal. You’re going to have to let go of this if you want to hang on to your family and your friends.’

For all his eccentricities, Mozzie had always been able to cut to the chase, causing Neal to truly face the truth on more occasions that he cared to remember. This was no exception.

‘You’re the only one who’s put up with my unique… perspective of the world and I can’t bear not having you there to keep me sane but… I’m with the Suit on this one. I don't want to stand by and watch you fall apart. You’ve been kidding yourself, Neal. Every conman worth his salt knows that the simplest truth is more powerful than even the most elaborate lie.’

Neal looked up at his oldest friend. Leave it to Mozzie to philosophize in any given situation. His eyes swept the room and he could see Caitlin fidgeting in her chair. He’d made a commitment to be a good, strong role model for her and he'd let her down in spades over the past few months as he descended into alcohol fuelled oblivion. She deserved so much more, especially after all she’d gone through in her young life.

Marion turned her attention to the young girl. ‘Caitlin, what would you like to say?’

TBC


	53. Chapter 53

Hope sat up in bed, still unsettled following her dad’s earlier visit. She knew she’d done the right thing convincing him to go to the intervention but she couldn't help feeling she’d sent him off to the gallows. She could only imagine what he must be going through, sitting there, surrounded by those he loved, listening as each of them shared their concerns and outlined their expectations. She was well aware that getting him to show up was just the first step on his journey. He would need to agree to some form of treatment or live with the consequences of his decision if he chose not to. Either way, their lives were about to change dramatically and she could only hope that he would take the help which was being offered and allow them to support him in the weeks and months to come.

The expression ‘tough love’ had never held more meaning. Her parents had used it with her and her brother on a few occasions over the years as they tried to instil good moral values in both of their children. But now, as it related to her dad, it seemed cruel: giving him ultimatums when he needed them to stand by him unconditionally. She shook her head and tried to reframe things. The only way to make someone realize they’d lost their way was to force them to look in the mirror and come to terms with what they were doing. And that included being prepared to go all the way if they refused to help themselves. She reached over and picked up her phone, checking for messages. Cameron had promised he’d text her when Neal arrived and she knew she wouldn't be able to rest until she heard back from him.

Hope stared out the window of her hospital room, thinking of life as she’d known it ‘BA’ - before the accident. She and Liam had enjoyed an almost picture perfect childhood with wonderful parents and a loving extended family. As a family, the Caffreys had suffered their fair share of heartaches including her mom’s battle with cancer and her dad’s brain injury and more recently, the gunshot wound he’d suffered but they’d always pulled together and she couldn't even imagine them moving forward without her dad in the picture.

She felt the now familiar sting of tears in her eyes as she thought ahead to _her_ future which, up until the day after her birthday, had been perfectly mapped out and full of promise. Her parents had scrimped and saved for a long time so she could fulfill her dream of attending Carnegie Mellon and now, she didn’t know if she would ever recover enough to finish her degree. And Cam… he’d slipped an engagement ring on the finger of a perfectly healthy young woman and despite his reassurances that nothing had changed for him, she knew all too well that, in reality, _everything_ had changed. Would she ever regain her ability to speak and be able to communicate properly? What kind of wife would she be if she didn’t have all her faculties? And what about kids? How could she be a good mom someday if she couldn't even communicate with her children?

She sniffled and grabbed for a tissue to wipe her eyes. Since coming to, she’d managed to avoid showing her emotions when her loved ones were around. Everybody was trying so hard to stay upbeat and it would just be too hard on them all if she gave in to those dreary thoughts. From day one, Cameron had been so encouraging and positive, she just couldn't bear to bring him down. And so, she’d preferred to wait until she was alone to have her little pity parties, which luckily were few and far between.

The phone vibrated in her lap and she reached for it, a smile appearing on her face. _‘Not sure how you did it, but he’s here.’_

WCWCWC

Caitlin peeked out from underneath her blond bangs across the room at Neal. For all her wackiness and outgoing personality, she still had a shy streak, especially when it came to her foster dad. Although he'd forgiven her for those spiteful false accusations she’d made, Caitlin was still tentative around him, calling him ‘Mr. C’ in order to maintain some semblance of respect and distance between them. She had pulled more than her fair share of crazy schemes since she’d come to live with the Caffreys and she was well aware that she was on thin ice. If she didn't tow the line, she would be hauled off to a group home - her worst fear. Neal had been nothing but wonderful from the moment she’d met him, first, taking her under his wing at the art school then, opening up his home, and his heart, to her when she least deserved it - but most needed it. She was eternally grateful for Neal and Sara’s presence in her life and even though she’d lived in their home for less than a year, she couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

Her eyes wandered down to her hands, wringing them obsessively as she prepared to speak.

‘I hate to see Sara and Liam suffering’ she managed to say before finally looking up and facing Neal. ‘Mr. C, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You gave me a chance when nobody else would, especially after I’d been so mean and hurtful to you.’

Neal gave her a sad smile. She drove him crazy on her best days, mostly because watching Caitlin operate was like watching a mirror image of himself back when he was her age - same impulse control issues, same raw talent, same poor decisions.

Caitlin’s eyes wandered to Linda whose hand she reached out for, clutching fiercely. ‘I know it’s selfish but… I’m worried that if you don't stop drinking, they’ll take me away from you and I’ll never get another chance’ she began as Neal gasped.

That possibility had never even crossed his mind. Of course, it was perfectly natural that a self-involved sixteen-year-old would be focussed on how events might affect her personally.

‘Oh, Caitlin’ he said, his voice quiet. ‘I didn't realize you were worried about that.’

‘When Social Services agreed to let me live with you, Ms Cross said that if I did anything bad, she’d personally haul my ass down to Five Oaks and I… I really, really don't want to live in a group home far away from here. I love living at your house and going to White Plains High with Liam and all my friends.’

Neal nodded in understanding. This was yet another consequence of his actions which he hadn't even considered.

‘Anyway… I really want you to get better Mr. C and I hope you’ll get some help so you can come home and be with us and everything can get back to normal’ she concluded as Linda squeezed her hand in approval.

As difficult as it was for Neal to hear these things, it was an essential first step if he was going to come to terms with the fact that he was dangerously close to losing everything he’d worked so hard for.

Cameron looked around the room, circumspect. He and Sara were the only ones who hadn't yet spoken and despite the fact he wasn't looking forward to confronting his boss and future father-in-law, he had to man up and do it anyway.

‘Mr. Caffrey, I’ve had nothing but admiration for you from the day I met you. You brought me in to work at the gallery and you and Mr. Burke have shown me the ropes and I’m so grateful for that. And then, when you opened up the school, you trusted me enough to put me in charge of managing the day to day operations at the gallery and that’s something I’ll never forget. But most of all, you trusted me with Hope’ he said as Neal listened, tears filling his eyes.

‘And even though it’s breaking my heart to see you going through this, now that Hope’s going to be my wife, I see everything through _her_ eyes. Her pain is my pain and… she’s really hurting, seeing you struggling like this. I’d do _anything_ for her, you know that and I know how much she means to you. Please get some help… I can’t stand to see Hope heartbroken and the only thing that’ll help her get better is for you to get back on your feet.’

Tears ran down Neal’s cheeks and he brought his hands to cover his face as he totally fell apart. He’d been so engrossed in living day to day and from drink to drink that he’d missed all those not so subtle cues from his family who were all suffering because of him.

Sara couldn't take much more and her hand came to rest on Neal’s back as he struggled to pull himself together. He was decimated, totally destroyed and her heart broke at the sight of her strong, capable husband being reduced to such a broken and defeated figure of a man. 

Peter cleared his throat and El could be heard crying in the quiet room as everyone waited uneasily for Neal to pull himself together. It seemed like cruel and unusual punishment to put him through such a painful exercise and yet, none of their individual pleas had resulted in getting him to come to terms with what was happening, forcing them into this agonizingly painful intervention.

Sara knew she held the key. If he was still wavering about getting help, she was their best shot at finally pushing him over the edge and yet, she couldn't bring herself to tell the man she loved how much he’d hurt her - not now, when he was already at his lowest.

‘Sara?’ Marion said, inviting her to say her piece.

Sara could feel Neal’s body next to hers, steadily deflating like some blow-up doll with a slow leak and yet, he managed to sit up resolutely and he cleared his throat, intent on going all the way. In that moment, she caught a glimpse of his fierce, resilient nature and she drew courage from his strength. She couldn't bring herself to add to the heavy load he'd been compelled to bear; she needed to leave him with a shred of dignity. Recounting what had happened two nights before in front of everyone wouldn’t do anyone any good. Neal _knew_ what he’d done, the pain he’d caused her and he'd already begun to pay the price by being thrown out of their matrimonial bed and their family home. No one needed to know the details of what had happened between them and it would serve no useful purpose to expose their most intimate quarrel to their family and friends.

‘Neal’ she whispered breathlessly, her hand still on his back. ‘I love you, you have no idea how much… but I have to think about the kids and I have too much self respect to continue living with you if you don't agree to get some help. You can’t do this by yourself honey… you’ve just dug your hole too deep and you need help to climb out just like Hope needed help to get better. This is no different…’

Neal turned to face her, the tension between them palpable as they both attempted to grapple with their shared heartache, he, because of the pain he'd caused the woman he loved and she, for her part in the anguish she could see in his eyes.

Neal finally fell apart and he began to shake uncontrollably. Without hesitation, Sara pulled him in to her as he collapsed, inconsolable.

‘I’m so sorry’ he sobbed as everyone watched in stunned silence.

Marion looked around the room, noticing there was not a dry eye in the place and she waited for a moment before speaking.

‘Neal, will you accept the help we’re offering you today?’ she asked as Neal nodded, his face buried in Sara’s neck.

‘Yes’ he blubbered as everyone broke into applause. Sara let out a gasp of relief, hugging him tightly and his eyes came up to meet hers.

He sat up, noticing everyone in the room laughing through their tears.

After a second, he spoke again, this time his voice stronger. ‘What is it I’m agreeing to, exactly?’ he asked as everyone laughed nervously. ‘Do I have to go away somewhere?’

He was ready to do whatever it took to get better but he really didn't want to have to leave at a time when Hope needed him the most. She was on the verge of coming home and he wanted to be there to support her through her recovery - although, he’d finally come to terms with the fact that he had to take care of himself before he could help his daughter.

‘Not necessarily’ Marion said, smiling reassuringly. ‘You and I can discuss the details together but overall, you’ll need therapy - with me, if you’re okay with that or with some other therapist if you prefer. You need to get at the root cause of why this happened so you can let go of whatever has allowed alcohol to get such a firm grip on you.’

Neal nodded as he held Sara’s hand tightly.

‘But you’ve also developed a physical and psychological dependence on alcohol and the best person to help you with that is an addictions counsellor. I have someone in mind who would be available to meet with you.’

‘Okay’ Neal said, his voice stronger, now that his decision had been made. ‘When do we start?’

‘Right now’ she said. ‘I’ve freed up some time to meet with you so we can get started.’

Neal nodded and looked at Sara, seeking her approval.

‘Thank you, honey’ she said as she hugged him. ‘Thank you.’

Before he knew what had happened, everyone was on their feet, hugging him and congratulating him on his decision, pledging their love and support while he navigated the next few days and weeks.

Within a few minutes, the room had emptied with only Sara, Neal and Marion remaining. Now came the hard part, letting go of the grip alcohol had on him and finding his way back to those he loved.

‘Why don’t we head over to my office?’ Marion suggested as she pointed up the hall.

Neal nodded and Marion stepped out in order to give Neal and Sara a few moments alone before he started on his journey to recovery.

‘Are you okay?’ Sara asked as she touched his cheek. He was shaking like a leaf and totally wrung out from all the emotions of the last hour.

He stared back at her loving face, emotions still raw. ‘No’ he answered honestly. ‘But I will be. I promise, honey… I will be.’

Tears returned to Sara’s eyes and she hugged him tightly, preparing to let him go on his way. This was something he needed to do on his own and she needed to stand by and let it happen.

‘Sara?’ he said, his arms still wound around her. ‘Can I _please_ come home?’

The question tore into her like a knife as she stared into his eyes and prepared to respond.

TBC


	54. Chapter 54

Hope stirred from her impromptu nap when a soft kiss grazed her lips and her eyes popped open to find that sweet smile that made her day, every day.

‘C-cam!’ she stuttered, sitting up.

‘Hey sweetie’ he responded with a wide grin. ‘Happy dreams?’

Suddenly, she was wide awake and from the frown appearing on her face, Cameron could well imagine the question that was on the tip of her tongue as she attempted to speak, regrettably without luck.

He took the chair by her bed and sat, leaning forward as he took her hand. ‘It went really well. Your dad has agreed to go to therapy.’

Hope sighed in relief and her face lit up as she threw her arms around her fiancé’s neck.

‘And it’s all thanks to you, baby. What did you say to him to get him to come?’ he asked as he hugged her tightly.

She shrugged and although she seemed relieved, he could see her eyes were brimming with tears and he reached out to catch a wayward tear as it threatened to escape onto her cheek.

‘Hey… don’t cry. It’s all good. Everything’s going to be fine now, you’ll see’ he whispered tenderly.

‘Dad?’ she asked, telegraphing her question.

‘He’s all right. He was really shaken up at first and it was hard for him to hear what everyone had to say but I’ve got to give him credit, Hope, he sat there and took it all.’

Hope made a sad face, silently asking if her dad had been upset.

‘Of course he was upset, he was… crying but not angry just really, really sad. I don't think he’d fully realized how people were feeling.’

‘L-l-liam?’

‘He did great. He was really nervous but he managed to read what he’d written. I think your dad was surprised to hear that Caitlin was worried that Social Services might remove her from the house.’

Hope nodded. She was relieved it was all over… well, at least the intervention was over. Now, was the hard part, they had to stand by her dad and help him through the next few days and weeks as best they could. She was frustrated by the fact there wasn’t much she could do, considering she could only utter one or two words at a time.

As if he could read her mind, Cam stood and moved over next to her on the bed, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. ‘Sweetie, you’ve done everything you can. Now you need to think about yourself. Your dad is a grown man, he’ll find a way to get through this.’

She looked up, her face strained, unconvinced.

‘All your dad wants is for you to get better. That’s how you can help him right now’ Cam explained.

‘Home’ she mumbled, under her breath.

‘I know sweetie, I know. Soon.’

WCWCWC

‘That was one of the worst things I’ve ever been through’ Elizabeth Burke said as she placed a cup of camomile tea in front of Mozzie.

‘I thought I’d seen every side of Neal there was to see over the past thirty odd years but…’ Mozzie said, his face sad. ‘All I wanted to do was get up and hug him.’

Peter looked on and listened. That was pretty well how he’d been feeling too. Seeing Neal so broken and vulnerable was difficult to watch and it was such an unusual state of affairs for the usually self-possessed ex-conman.

‘So, what happens next?’ Mozzie asked.

‘Well, he’s going to need us around him and we need to be there for him’ El answered.

‘And we will be… as long as he sticks with the program’ Peter reminded her.

‘Do you think Sara will let him come home?’ El asked her husband.

‘I don’t know’ Peter admitted. ‘Whatever happened the other night, it was… big and they may need to work through that, whatever _it_ is before she lets him come home.’

Mozzie picked up his cup and took a sip, wincing as the tea burned the tip of his tongue. ‘It’ll be hard on Neal if he can’t be with his family.’

Elizabeth turned to face Peter. ’Honey, he’s going to be devastated!’ she exclaimed.

‘El! Stay out of it!’ Peter warned. No one knew for certain what had transpired that night and why Sara had felt compelled to throw Neal out. It was none of their business - not that that made any difference to Elizabeth Burke.

‘Why don't we invite him to stay here with us?’ El suggested. ‘I just hate to think of him all alone in a sterile hotel room somewhere while he’s trying to deal with all this.’

Peter seemed reticent, not wanting to meddle in Neal’s affairs - well, at least no more than they already had. ‘Let’s just see what happens, okay?’ 

El gave Mozzie a worried look; Neal had a rough road ahead and would need their support to pull through and she was determined to be there for him.

WCWCWC

Neal studied his wife’s face as he waited for her response. He wanted nothing more than to come home, especially with the difficult days and weeks looming ahead. He could see the ambivalence in her eyes and more importantly, he understood why she might be hesitant, considering what had happened between them less than forty-eight hours earlier.

Sara looked away briefly, a precursor to her response, which Neal probably wasn't going to like. Her eyes returned to his tortured face as she forced herself to answer.

‘Honey… the decision you just made to get treatment… well, it’s a _huge_ step forward and I’m so proud of you…’ she began as she touched his cheek and held his gaze.

‘But…’ Neal said, his face crestfallen. Even _he_ knew he was asking too much, too soon.

‘I just think we have some things to work out first, don't you? I mean before we go back to living under the same roof. Neal, we can’t pretend the other night didn't happen’ she explained.

Neal put on a brave face, despite his disappointment. ‘You’re right’ he said, his voice resolute and a dejected smile pasted on his face.

‘Look, Marion’s waiting for me. I’d better go’ he said as he pulled away, disheartened.

‘Neal… wait’ Sara said, holding him back and forcing him to look at her again. ‘Honey, we’ll get through this… one day at a time.’

He nodded but his eyes remained sad. He was reaping what he’d sown with his reckless behaviour over the past few months and he needed to cowboy up and take it like a man.

‘It’s okay… really’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘I understand.’

Sara felt her heart break at the sight of him so disappointed and yet, she wouldn't be true to herself if she didn't let things play out as they should. There was no point in rushing things. When he finally came home, she wanted to be free of any bitterness she might still be feeling towards him and that meant taking the time to work things through, one step at a time.

‘Caffrey….’ she said as tears returned, unbidden. ‘I love you. That’s _never_ gonna change.’

‘I know… I know. I love you, too’ he said as he touched her face briefly and turned to leave.

Sara watched him walk away, feet dragging and shoulders slumped in reaction to her response. She willed herself to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground rather than run after him and give in to his request. They would get there, eventually… just not yet.

WCWCWC

‘Neal, I think you made an excellent decision today’ Marion said as he took a seat in front of her, wringing his hands anxiously.

‘Before we get started, do you need a drink?’ she asked as his face grew incredulous.

‘What?’ Neal asked, stunned.

‘Do you _need_ a drink? When was the last time you had something to drink?’ she insisted.

He couldn't quite believe what she’d asked him; this was some strange kind of therapy.

‘Your body is used to regular doses of alcohol and your addiction counsellor will likely put you on a gradual detox program but I can see you’re sweating and your hands are shaking… if we’re going to have a meaningful conversation, you should probably have a drink first’ Marion explained.

Neal looked down at his trembling hands and nodded, embarrassed. ‘Yes…please’ he murmured.

He watched as Marion walked over to the small fridge in the corner of her office where he knew she usually kept bottled water and juice and he watched in surprise as she pulled out a beer.

‘Beer is the best choice for detox’ she explained as she handed him the can. ‘It has the lowest alcohol content and you can control the amount you’re ingesting that way.’

‘Okay’ he said as he took a long swig. Neal had never been much of a beer drinker but years of hanging out with the likes of Peter Burke had given him a certain appreciation for high end beer.

‘Thank you’ he said as finished downing his drink and set the empty can on the small table between them.

‘Better?’ she asked as Neal nodded.

‘Tell me about the first time you remember drinking to excess’ she asked as she settled in across from him.

‘You mean, since the accident?’ Neal asked, needing clarification.

Marion nodded. ‘I think it was a couple of nights after Hope’s accident. I hadn't been able to get any sleep and I took out a bottle of scotch someone had given me as a gift. After a couple of stiff belts, I was able to relax and I fell asleep.’

‘What was keeping you from sleeping?’ she asked.

‘Just… reliving the accident. Over and over in my mind. The sounds mostly… that’s the part that haunts me the most’ he said as he stared blankly into space.

‘Tell me about it’ she said.

‘The accident?’ Neal asked as he looked straight at her. It was something he worked so hard to forget and now, here she was, asking for details - details he’d just as soon permanently erase from his memory.

‘It was a Thursday…’ he began, his voice far away. ‘Hope was home on study break and she’d come to the art school to help me teach a class.’

Marion sat in silence, waiting for him to continue.

A small smile graced Neal’s lips as he recalled the events of that night. ‘She was so excited. It was the day after her birthday and Cameron had proposed to her. I kept teasing her… like I always do and she kept pretending to get annoyed like _she_ always does and… well, one of the kids seemed to have a crush on her and I kept teasing her about it…’

‘We were still laughing about it when we stepped outside. The weather was horrible… the rain was cold and there were some icy patches….’ he said, almost as if he were in a trance.

‘She said something about was I sure I wanted to drive her all the way to Cameron’s place in Flushing and I answered that I wasn't about to let her cab it all the way back there…’

He seemed to be reliving the horrible events minute by minute, his gaze becoming distant and the sound of his voice monotone as he continued. ‘I walked out of the school first… the car was parked right across the street… and I turned back and called her Mrs. Armstrong… I was laughing, having fun at her expense and she was trying not to laugh but then… she was right under a street light and I could see her face change… she wasn't laughing anymore and I… I couldn't figure out why… she kept looking behind me at something and I… I didn't … it all happened so fast and yet, I can see it in slow motion, playing in my head…’

Neal stopped talking suddenly, seemingly unable to continue. His voice had grown shaky and Marion could sense he needed a break as the memories flooded back, vivid and painful.

‘Neal?’ she said as he suddenly looked back at her. ‘Are you all right?’

He nodded, momentarily unable to speak.

‘What happened next?’

He let out a slow breath and Marion watched as his eyes clouded over. ‘Hope… she came towards me and she screamed and all of a sudden, she was pushing me, hard, and I was falling back, hitting the pavement…I still didn't know what was going on.’

He interrupted the narrative and stared at Marion, his face contorted. ‘Why didn't I hear that car coming?’ he asked as if she held the secret to what had been haunting him all this time. ‘Why couldn't I stop it from happening? Why couldn't I keep her safe?’

His voice had grown louder and distressed and he began to cry, his hands covering his face as he gave in to the self loathing and doubts which had been hounding him since that fateful night.

Marion watched in silence, giving him a chance to let it out, to really feel what he needed to feel, without the benefit of alcohol to shroud his true emotions.

‘What could you have done, Neal? How do you suppose you could have changed what happened that night?’ she asked, hoping to help him come to terms with the unrealistic expectations he seemed to have of himself.

He shook his head. ‘That’s what I keep asking myself…’ he whimpered. ‘Over and over and over again, until I can’t anymore and I need to make it all go away.’

‘And that’s when you reach for a drink?’ she asked, knowing full well the answer.

He shrugged in response and rubbed his temples, his head pounding.

Marion leaned in and lay a hand on his. ‘Neal…’ she said. ‘We’re going to work through this together. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy but I’ll be with you every step of the way. And on Monday, I’d like you to see Jim McDougall. He’s a friend of mine and a wonderful therapist who specialized in addiction. He’s going to help you wean off the drinking. Would you like that?’

‘Yes, please’ Neal said. ‘What do I do in the meantime? I mean when I need a drink?’

‘I suggest you try to keep a clear head but don’t try to quit cold turkey. Your body is used to having regular doses of alcohol so until he shows you how to do this properly just try not to overdo it. Do you think you can handle that?’ she asked.

‘I think so’ he said as he took a cleansing breath.

She smiled and waited for him to pull himself together. This was more than enough turmoil for a first session and he needed time to recuperate before they spoke again.

‘Marion, I need to make things right… with Sara. I need her with me if I’m going to get through this and I want to make amends for what happened the other night’ he said. ‘I suppose she told you…’

Marion nodded at the unfinished question. ’Yes. Sara came to see me the next day. She was upset about what happened but she’s all right. If anything, this unfortunate situation helped her realize she’s stronger than she knew.’

‘What I did was… well, it was unforgivable. And I need to try to fix it’ he said, eyes full of pain.

‘Why don't I schedule an appointment for the two of you and you can talk it out?’

Neal nodded eagerly. ‘Yeah… Marion, I don’t know if I can do this detox thing if Sara isn't with me. I need her…’

‘All right, we’ll do it in the next few days, then’ she said as she rose.

‘Thank you’ Neal said. ‘I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me… what you’ve done for the two of us.’

‘It’s my pleasure, Neal’ she answered with a sincere smile.

TBC


	55. Chapter 55

Sara sat at the kitchen table, staring down at her cup of tea. It had been an exhausting day and now, in contrast, the house she normally shared with Neal and their kids was disturbingly quiet. Without him there and with Liam at Cody’s and Caitlin out with her friends, the place felt like a mausoleum. She glanced down at Raffie, lying at her feet, snoring away. He was used to a lot of hustle and bustle and without the usual sights and sounds to keep him interested, he was content to just lay there and snooze. Sara flashed back to a time when the kids were little and there was constant noise and activity around them; who knew she would someday grow to miss the chaos. 

She knew she’d done the right thing in asking Neal to stay away but she couldn't deny just how much she missed him - his physical presence, his boundless energy, his infectious laugh, his warm smile. She wondered in passing where he’d be spending the night. Maybe Peter and Elizabeth would take pity on him or perhaps he’d end up at one of Mozzie’s safe houses; either way, she needed to let things sit for a while until they were able to debrief about their little encounter from two nights before. She’d gotten a text from Marion, informing her, that at Neal’s request, she had scheduled a couple’s session for them on the coming Tuesday. It was a relief to know they were going to tackle what had happened and try to work through the aftermath.

Raffle’s head suddenly popped up and he sat at attention as a barely audible sound was heard at the front of the house. A fraction of a second later, the doorbell rang - how did he always know?

WCWCWC

Neal snuck back into the rehab centre of Bronx Lebanon, intent on surprising his little girl. She’d been instrumental in getting him to take that first difficult step and, following a morning fraught with emotions, he wanted to let her know he was all right.

‘Mr. Caffrey!’ one of the nurses called out as he sauntered past the nursing station. ‘Are you looking for Hope?’

Neal slowed his steps. ‘Is she not in her room?’

‘No, she’s down in the gym doing PT. Those are beautiful!’ she commented, pointing to the large bouquet of flowers Neal was carrying.

‘Gerberas… her favourites’ he replied as he reversed steam and started heading back down the hall from whence he’d come.

He hesitated for a moment and turned back to face the nurse. ‘Is Cameron around?’ he asked.

‘He just went out to get a bite to eat but he should be back in about an hour’ she responded.

Neal wasn't avoiding Cam - well, not exactly. He was still feeling the sting from the intervention and he wasn't quite up to chatting with people just yet. It was just as well the young man wasn't around.

Neal headed down the long corridor that lead to the adjoining gym, his gait steady and his mind clear. After his session with Marion Birch, he’d grabbed a quick bite to eat along with a few, obligatory gulps of scotch from the flask he still kept on his body at all times. He’d begun to think ahead to the moment he would finally have to divest himself of that thing. It had become a permanent fixture over the past few weeks, a security blanket of sorts and he was apprehensive at the thought of letting it go. He tapped his chest absent-mindedly, feeling it in his pocket and he turned the last corner towards the gym, his eyes searching for his daughter.

He spotted her immediately from behind the large bay window overlooking the spacious gym and he slowed his steps, staying out of sight as he observed from a distance. She’d only just started the more aggressive physical therapy a few days before, after weeks of exercising from the confines of her hospital bed. He hadn't yet seen her in action and he peeked in, noticing a young woman by her side - no doubt the physiotherapist assigned to her case. Hope looked wan and pale and it was obvious, more than ever, that she’d lost weight since the accident. Not only had Hope been glued to her bed for weeks on end, unconscious and unable to move, but she was still recovering from a fractured pelvis and several broken bones in her left leg, further hampering her recovery.

Even from a distance, he could spot the telltale scars on her face and at the sight of her thin, gangly legs, Neal flashed back to the scrawny five-year-old he had taught to ride a two-wheeler, many moons ago. He watched with interest as the therapist assisted Hope in standing from the wheelchair she’d ostensibly been wheeled in with and helped her put some weight on her injured leg. Hope’s face was tense, scrunched up as she concentrated on the task at hand and Neal was transported back to that moment in his own recovery when he’d stood for the first time, uncertain about his ability to walk again. He could hear the muffled sound of her therapist’s voice calling out words of encouragement as Hope grabbed onto the bars and tried to get her feet under her, seemingly nervous about putting weight onto her left leg.

It had been almost three months since the accident and to Neal’s dismay, here was his beautiful daughter still struggling to get back on her feet. A fresh wave of guilt washed over him as he observed her through the glass, looking so small and fragile. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he flashed back to that night, seeing her lying in the pouring rain, her face mangled beyond recognition and her body motionless. Giving Marion Birch a play by play of the events of that night had brought it all back a little too vividly and he swallowed hard as he watched Hope take another tentative step.

There was a small commotion on the gym floor and Neal let out a gasp as he saw Hope’s legs give out and suddenly she was on the ground, in a pile, and the therapist was rushing over to check on her. The sight of his little girl, crumpled on the floor, tugged at his heartstrings and he stepped back, covering his mouth in consternation. 

It seemed that with each painful step forward, Hope was forced to take two steps back. Unable to witness the heartbreaking scene any longer and like the coward he had become of late, he backed away from the window and as the flowers slipped out of his hands and onto the ground, he ran out of the hospital and onto the busy street.

WCWCWC

‘So, when do you think Hope will be coming home?’ asked Donna Mason, Sara’s longtime friend and neighbour.

‘We’re hoping it’ll be within a couple of weeks, as soon as she’s back on her feet’ Sara answered as she poured Donna a cup of tea and took a seat across from her.

‘Well, we’ve been praying for her…’ Donna began as Sara nodded. ‘I’ve been getting most of my news from Olivia. She says Hope’s started to talk?’

‘She’s communicating…’ Sara explained. ‘But she’s going to need a lot of therapy and we don't know just how far she’ll be able to come…’

Donna reached out and squeezed Sara’s hand, giving her a sad smile. The two women had consumed countless pots of tea over the almost twenty years their families had lived a few houses apart on Meadowbrook Street. When the girls were little, Sara and Donna had spent endless hours sitting and chatting over a cup of tea or a glass of wine while the girls played nearby. Over the past few years, they had graduated to dinner out or coffee dates where they would share their lives’ up and downs, both of the women more than happy to brag about their daughters’ recent exploits and successes.

‘By the way’ Donna continued. ‘Did you hear that Olivia’s moving in with her boyfriend next month?’

Sara listened, bittersweet. Olivia Mason was moving on with her life at a time when Hope’s existence had been so tragically put on hold, through no fault of her own.

‘You’re kidding? I didn't realize they were that serious’ Sara said with a wistful smile.

‘Neither did I’ Donna said, sounding nostalgic. ‘But Brett's a really sweet guy and I guess… well, she _is_ twenty years old.’

Sara spotted the worried look in her friend’s eyes. She knew all too well what it was like to watch your child leave home for the first time - at least she and Neal still had Liam and Caitlin at home.

‘Believe me, I get it… I remember when Hope left for Pittsburgh the first time. Neal and I wandered around the house looking for her for weeks before we started to accept it’ Sara recalled.

‘How _is_ Neal? Jeff was just saying how we haven't seen him around much lately.’

Although Donna was a friend and sometime confidante, Sara just didn't have the energy to give her the lowdown on what had been happening with her husband since the accident and in true Caffrey style, she expertly deflected.

‘Oh, you know… between the school and the gallery and visiting the hospital every day, we’ve both been pretty busy.’

‘Actually I popped in to ask if you two wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I realize it’s last minute but I was sticking a roast in the oven and I thought you might appreciate a night off - or at least Neal might’ Donna said, well aware of who was the cook in their family.

‘Hum…’ Sara stalled as she thought of an acceptable excuse. Somehow, ‘ _Neal’s not living here at the moment because I kicked him out for forcing himself on me’_ didn't seem like the most appropriate response, considering the circumstances.

‘You know, I think Neal was planning on visiting his mom tonight’ she lied with the slightest of hesitation. ‘Why don’t we do it some other night?’

‘Sure…’ Donna said as she smiled at her friend, the pause in Sara’s response not having gone unnoticed.

‘And Sara’ she added, ‘I’m here if you need anything.’

WCWCWC

By the time Neal stumbled out into the warm June afternoon, his heart was pounding wildly in his chest. It felt like he would never be able to come to terms with his part in the horrible events of that fateful night. He ducked into a nearby café and immediately into the men’s room, his hands shaking as he downed the entire content of his flask. His breathing was ragged and he felt the all too familiar tightness in his chest as he thought of his little girl struggling, just when it seemed she was getting back on her feet.

Dammit!This was never going to end.

Never.

He started on his way to his temporary digs, several blocks away. If he couldn't be with his family, he reasoned, at least there was the comfort of a half a bottle of scotch waiting for him back at the Webster Hotel. 

WCWCWC

‘That was amazing, honey’ Peter said as he pulled away from the dinner table.

‘I’m glad you liked it. After the day we’ve had, I thought we’d both enjoy a nice home cooked meal’ Elizabeth said as she stood and grabbed their plates, heading for the kitchen. ‘Why don’t you go put your feet up and I’ll make us some coffee.’

‘Thanks hon’ Peter said, stealing a kiss from her as she walked by.

‘Any news from Neal or Sara?’ El called out from the kitchen.

‘Nada. I guess that’s a good sign’ he said as he moved to the living room. There was a game on and after the day’s excitement, he was looking forward to a quiet evening curled up with his wife on the living room couch.

The phone rang, disturbing the uneasy peace and quiet and he reached for it with trepidation, hoping it wasn't anything that would disrupt their plans for a quiet night in. 

‘Hello?’ Peter said as he settled on the couch.

‘Peeeter…’ came a muffled voice on the other end. 

‘Neal? Are you all right?’ Peter asked as he took in the sound of his best friend’s voice, barely recognizable.

‘I’m drunk!’ Neal announced unequivocally - as if an ex-FBI agent the likes of Peter Burke couldn't figure that out for himself.

Peter let out an audible sigh. ‘I can see that…’ he replied as he sat up to better make out what Neal was saying.

‘Pe-er, what am I gonna do? I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to ever stop drinking… what if I can’t?’ Neal whined, his voice slurred.

‘What happened Neal?’ Peter asked. When he’d left his best friend less than eight hours earlier, he’d seemed optimistic about his recovery…and now, this.

‘Did things not go well with the therapist?’ he asked.

‘Who, Marion? No, no, no… Marion’s wonderful’ Neal said, barely coherent. ‘I’m the one who’s a mess. Hope… she fell… and I ran out and… bottle was on the table…’

‘Neal, you’re not making any sense. Where are you?’

‘I dunno…’ Neal said, despondent.

‘Neal, I’m serious. _Where_ are you?’ Peter repeated more insistently.

‘Sara said I couldn't come home… Pe-er, I wanna go home…’ Neal whined like a two-year-old. ‘What I did was horrible… she’s never gonna forgive me… I’m gonna end up living in this hell hole for the rest of my life…’

‘Neal, stop it!’ Peter said loudly as El walked into the living room to see what all the commotion was about.

‘I wanna go home…’ Neal lamented on the other end.

‘Neal, you’ve got to get a grip’ Peter said. ‘Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you and we’ll talk this out, okay buddy?’

‘No… don't want Lizabeth to see me like this…’ Neal replied with the tiny shred of dignity he apparently still had. ‘…and don't tell Sara… Sara… never gonna forgive me… I’m never gonna go home…’ he moaned, reverting to his previous refrain.

‘Look, Neal, we’ll just sit and talk. Just tell me where you are’ Peter repeated. If only he could track him like back in the day, this whole exercise would be so much easier.

‘I’m at a hotel… I think’ Neal said, his voice fading in and out.

Peter rolled his eyes. His best friend was not being helpful at all. ‘Okay… do you think you can narrow that down for me?’

‘It’s… I dunno… wait a minute…’ Neal slurred as his voice grew dimmer.

El stared at her husband, eyes narrowing as she whispered. ‘What’s going on?’

Peter put his hand up and shook his head in response, trying to remain focussed on the fractured conversation he was trying to have with a very drunk and incoherent man. He could hear Neal stumbling and he imagined him looking around the room for a matchbook or some other way to identify the hotel he’d moved into. The truth wasn't far off. Neal staggered to the small desk in the corner of the room and tried to get his eyes to focus on the hotel’s room service menu.

‘It’s… oh yeah, that’s right…’ Peter heard his best friend mumble followed by silence.

‘Care to share, Neal?’ Peter prompted.

‘Oh, yeah’ came Neal’s monotone voice. ‘It’s the Webster… near the hospital.’

‘All right buddy’ Peter said as he stood. ‘Sit tight and I’ll be right over.’

‘And don't drink anymore, do you hear me?’ he added in caution.

‘No more…’ Neal mumbled as he held the empty bottle in his hand and turned it upside down, watching with regret as a couple of drops leaked out onto the bedspread.

‘Right’ Peter said as he hung up.

Elizabeth stared up at her husband quizzically.

‘Honey, I’ll have to take that coffee to go’ he said.

TBC


	56. Chapter 56

‘Good workout today, Hope!’ Amanda Grier declared as she settled her patient back in bed.

‘Th-th-anks’ Hope said, half-heartedly.

‘Now remember what I said, just forget about that spill you took. The important thing is that you got right back on your feet and kept going. You did _great_ today’ the young woman reminded her.

Hope nodded and gave her therapist a weak smile. She was totally exhausted from doing something she would have easily breezed through just a few short months ago. But now, her legs were aching, her whole body was shaking and all she could think about was settling in for a long, restful nap. When had her twenty-year-old body gotten so frail and weary?

‘I know it isn't easy but you’ve come such a long way’ the therapist reminded her.

‘… l-l-long to g-go’ Hope added with difficulty.

‘That might be but you need to keep your eye on the prize, okay?’ Amanda said with an encouraging smile.

‘You’re back!’ Cameron’s voice was heard from the doorway.

He was carrying a couple of Starbucks cups and wearing a bright smile, happy, as always, to lay eyes on the woman he loved. Hope reflected on how amazing he looked, standing there in casual jeans and a v-neck shirt, all six foot four of him.

‘Ah’ Amanda said as she walked over to him and put out her hand in greeting. ‘You must be the famous Cameron I keep hearing about from all the nurses!’

‘Or infamous, depending on who you talk to’ Cam said as he shook her outstretched hand.

‘Well, Hope’s face always seems to brighten up whenever your name is mentioned’ Amanda said with a coquettish smile.

Cameron didn't seem to notice how the young woman’s eyes lingered up and down his lanky frame; instead, he turned his attention to Hope and made his way over to her bed leaning in and placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

‘Hey baby. How did it go?’

Hope put on a brave face and nodded as her therapist spoke up. ‘She did great! So, same time, same place tomorrow, Hope?’

Hope waved her off and watched her leave, noticing the ease with which she moved and the slight swing of her slender hips. Her eyes returned to Cam’s smiling face and she pointed to one of the cups in his hand.

‘As promised… here’s your vanilla latte, beautiful’ he announced as he gave her a playful shove so she would move over and make room for him on the bed.

Hope was beginning to resent it whenever he called her ‘beautiful’ and she gave him a look of pure annoyance in response - a look that was not lost on him. For all his loving words and gestures, Hope couldn't help but feel insecure these days - especially when she compared herself to the perky blonde therapist with whom she’d just spent the last hour and a half. The woman’s skin was flawless, her body trim and fit, her blond hair shiny and bouncy and she carried herself with an air of confidence commensurate with her many assets. In contrast, Hope had grown scrawny, her hair seemed lifeless and the scars on her face had begun to really bother her, to say nothing of her inability to string more than two words together without sounding like an eighteen-month-old toddler.

Throughout it all, Cam had been nothing but loving and supportive, although the intimacy they’d shared before her accident had regrettably dwindled to a few stolen kisses here and there whenever the nurses weren’t looking. But then again, she didn't look or feel very desirable; why would a hunky, healthy guy like Cameron Armstrong want to make out with a damaged young woman such as herself?

‘What’s with the look?’ Cam asked patiently.

She pouted, as only Hope could, and he frowned, trying to figure out what the problem was. He replayed the last two minutes in his baffled mind and came up with zilch - whatever was pissing her off remained a mystery to _him_.

Although Hope had always had a very healthy self-image (she _was_ Neal Caffrey’s daughter after all), the events of the last few months and her present condition had served to bring out some heretofore nonexistent insecurities and she cringed when Cam reached out to give her a comforting hug - a pity hug? How could he possibly find her attractive when she was such a mess? For all her bravado, Hope wasn't quite able to keep it together and when he pulled away, Cam could see her eyes were filled with tears.

‘Hey, what’s with the tears?’ he asked as he gently wiped one away. ‘You heard what your therapist said. Before long, I’ll be chasing you around my apartment to get you into bed’ he added with a wink and an exaggerated leer.

Hope rolled her eyes. ‘Home’ she murmured, a never-ending lament as of late.

All she wanted was to go home - not to her dorm at Carnegie Mellon but to her _real_ home, the one where, as a toddler, she’d played in the sandbox in the backyard, where she teased her brother mercilessly at the dinner table, where she painted with her dad in their very own studio, where her mom was always there to comfort her whenever she grew sad. She’d had more than enough of being cooped up in a hospital room where, except for the odd outing on the hospital grounds to enjoy a few moments of sunshine, she’d been stuck for going on three months.

‘How about I talk to Dr. White again and see if we can move things along?’ Cam asked as he held her close. ‘Maybe see if you can do your therapy on an outpatient basis. Would you like that?’

Hope nodded and wiped her eyes. Her arms went around Cam’s neck and she squeezed him tight; she couldn't wait to spend some quality time with him - far away from this place - so she could start to feel human again.

‘Miss you’ she whispered.

Cameron touched her face, his hand lingering on her scars and he gave her a loving smile. ‘I miss you too, sweetie. Let’s get you out of this place.’

WCWCWC

By the time Peter found his way into the parking lot of the Webster Hotel in the Bronx, Neal had conked out on the bed in the sparsely furnished room that was - regrettably - his temporary home. After his 911 call to Peter, he’d lamented his fate for a few minutes, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror and berating himself for being so weak before deciding to rest his eyes while he waited for his best friend to arrive. Before long, he’d been snoring, laid out flat on his back, mouth open and hair falling in his eyes as he slept off the worse of his overindulgence.

Once Peter arrived on the third floor of the establishment, he gave a discreet knock on the door to room 306, calling out Neal’s name, not surprised to hear nothing but silence on the other side. He checked the door handle and, relieved to find it unlocked, he let himself into the dimly lit room to find Neal blissfully asleep on top of the bed covers. He put down the thermos of coffee and the food El had insisted he take along with him and he made his way to the bed, perching on the edge and staring down at the unusual mess that was Neal Caffrey.

He’d known the man for going on thirty years, first as a felon whose trail he’d hotly pursued on three different continents, as the charismatic jailbird who’d charmed his way out of Sing Sing on early release, as his impulsive yet eminently capable CI and finally, as a wonderful and loyal friend for whom Peter would willingly lay down his life.

Throughout the years, Neal had always appeared suave and debonair, whether he was conning some unsuspecting mark during an undercover operation, talking Peter into some harebrained scheme, or in later years, wiping spit up from his suit or curling up and reading one of his kids a bedtime story. The man lying on the bed was far from the cool, calm, collected man Peter had known and loved for all those years.

It was almost physically painful for Peter to see Neal so vulnerable and depressed as the younger man struggled with what he perceived to be his shortcomings as a dad. The truth was, Neal was an amazing father to both his kids, something Peter had always admired. As a matter of fact, Peter envied him the ease with which he’d fallen into his role of loving husband and devoted father. He and El had always wanted children but he knew deep down that he could never have measured up to the kind of dad Neal was to both Hope and Liam - loving, caring, supportive and always there when they needed him.

Peter nudged him and Neal stirred, opening one eye to find Peter staring down at him.

‘You came’ Neal muttered as he forced both eyes open. ‘I guess I must have dozed off.’

‘I guess so’ Peter repeated as he held up the empty bottle of scotch and pointed to it. ‘Neal, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Neal pushed himself up onto one elbow and winced at the headache that was beginning to form behind his bloodshot eyes. He struggled to sit and Peter stood and moved to the adjoining bed, making himself comfortable up against the headboard while he watched Neal sit up, not without effort. Neal ran his hands through his disheveled hair and wiped his face with his hands, trying to regain some sense of reality after a drunken coma.

He looked over at Peter and shook his head. ‘I don’t have a clue…’ he admitted sadly.

‘Let’s start by sobering you up a little’ Peter suggested as he walked over to get the thermos on the nearby table. ‘El sent some over some food. I’m guessing you haven't eaten.’

Neal glanced at the clock by the bedside. It was already past 9:00 on Saturday night and he hadn't eaten anything since that sandwich he’d had after his appointment with Marion Birch.

‘Sara…’ Neal said, out of the blue.

‘What about her?’

‘I sent her a drunken text a while ago’ Neal said as he reached frantically for his phone. He couldn't remember _what_ he’d written and he scrolled up to see if he’d made a total fool of himself.

_‘I miss you, Repo’_ he’d written with a bunch of heart emojis (about 15 of them)… not terribly incriminating, as it turned out. She didn't need to know he’d been stinking drunk and whimpering like a lost three-year-old when he’d typed it. Maybe she’d assume he was just being playful and loving - and not disgustingly sloshed, as was really the case. She’d replied with _‘Try to get some sleep, Caffrey’_ and her usual red heart and Peter watched Neal smile as he handed him a cup of coffee.

‘Not too much damage I take it’ Peter asked.

Neal shook his head. ‘No… I guess I must have some sort of built-in self-preservation… thingie… you know, like a pressure cooker valve’ he said, still slightly intoxicated. 

Peter waited in silence; he was there to listen and Neal never did do very well with being coerced into talking.

‘This is nice’ Neal said as he tasted the hot, soothing coffee. ‘Thanks.’

‘You can thank El. Oh, and she sent some dinner’ he added as he stood to get the leftovers of the chicken, rice and broccoli casserole she had lovingly packed up for Neal.

He handed the still warm plate to Neal who sat there, seemingly bewildered, as he slowly but surely began to come out of his drunken stupor.

‘That looks good’ he murmured despite setting it down next to him on the bed without so much as touching it.

‘So, what’s going on in that head of yours?’ Peter asked.

‘Way too much shit’ Neal admitted as he returned to the coffee.

‘Such as?’

‘I went over to the hospital this afternoon to see Hope and she was doing physical therapy in the gym’ Neal explained.

‘Oh, yeah? That’s great!’ Peter enthused.

Neal nodded. ’I was watching her try to walk but she stumbled and ended up in a pile on the floor and… I just couldn't watch it and I stormed out of there… and I ended up here’ he said, pointing to the empty bottle nearby.

Peter listened patiently.

‘What the hell is wrong with me, Peter? How come… every little thing that happens lately… why do I turn to scotch as soon as things get the least bit rough?’

‘Did you talk to Marion about any of this?’ Peter asked.

‘Not really, we talked about the night of the accident… that didn't help either. After I left the hospital, I couldn't stop thinking about it… why it happened, how I could have prevented it from happening…’

‘You think you could have prevented it from happening?’ Peter repeated, incredulous. ‘You really _do_ have a God complex, don't you?’

Neal laughed wryly at his buddy’s offbeat sense of humour.

‘That’s kinda what Marion said’ he admitted. ‘I know it’ll do me good to talk it out but… Marion also has me seeing an addiction counsellor first thing Monday to help me quit drinking’ he added as his hand longingly touched the empty bottle of scotch.

There was silence in the room and suddenly Neal laughed bitterly. ‘You want to know the funniest part?’ he asked as Peter nodded in response. ‘I don’t even _like_ scotch.’

They both started laughing loudly at Neal’s unexpected declaration.

‘But it’s not about that’ Neal admitted as the fit of giggles ended. ‘It’s just a means to an end… it helps me let go of all the guilt and all those horrible memories. That’s what it does for me…’

‘Well, you’re going to have to find a way to do that without the booze’ Peter said. ‘Hopefully, Marion can help you develop some less damaging coping strategies. What did she suggest you do about the drinking until you see this guy on Monday?’

‘She just said not to overdo it’ Neal declared as Peter scoffed.

‘Never could follow orders, could you Caffrey?’ Peter said with a soft smile.

‘I know, I know…’ Neal admitted. ‘This guy, he’s going to coach me though withdrawal and apparently, I’ll have a sponsor to help me out… and I’ll have to go to some modified version of a twelve step program.’

He glanced down at the plate he’d set aside, his appetite slowly returning and he placed it on his lap, digging in with his fork and shovelling a forkful of rice and broccoli into his mouth.

It tasted great and he took a couple more mouthfuls before continuing.

‘She says because I haven't been abusing for very long, I probably won’t need to go into a residential treatment program… well, not right away anyway. She thinks I can be weaned off with, get this…’ he said pointing to Peter with his fork ‘…beer, of all things.’

‘Beer?’ Peter repeated.

‘Yeah, you have beer throughout the day to keep your alcohol level just high enough to keep you from having withdrawal symptoms.’

Peter frowned.

‘I know’ Neal admitted. ‘I thought it was weird too. She even gave me one in her office’ he said as he returned to his plate and took a large bite of chicken.

‘This is really good. Thanks Peter’ he said, sounding just like good old Neal as he gradually began to sober up.

‘This thing with Sara… can it be fixed?’ Peter asked, not wanting to pry. He knew Neal was suffering from being separated from his family and that Sara held the key to keeping him sane and focussed throughout his recovery.

Neal stopped eating once again and looked his best friend straight in the eye. ‘I really messed up… I got really drunk that night and I… I tried to force myself on her.’

Peter’s mouth fell open at the confession. Neal had nothing but respect for women in general, most of all Sara, who he held in the highest regard and had treated with deference since the day they’d first met. He had trouble imagining Neal behaving in any way that was disrespectful, especially after the long months of hardship they’d endured after her kidnapping and sexual assault.

‘Oh Neal…’ Peter couldn't help but say.

Neal pulled his eyes away as shame reared its ugly head once more. This was probably the most reprehensible thing he’d ever done in his life and in the process he’d hurt and alienated the one person who meant the most to him.

He put the plate down and Peter could see that his breathing was becoming uneven. When Neal next spoke, his voice was broken.

‘It started out… innocently. We were playing around, or so I thought and… I wanted her… I’d been missing her so much’ he explained.

‘We haven't been together since the accident and it felt so good to hold her but… well, she didn't want it that way, I mean with me drunk… I just wasn't paying attention and she was asking me to stop and I… my judgement was way off, Peter… I just kept going… and I went too far, I stepped over the line… and she freaked out. _I_ freaked her out. _Me!_ I freaked out my own wife.’

He stopped for a moment, his throat tightening. ‘I wouldn't blame her if she never forgave me for treating her that way.’

His eyes came up to meet Peter’s and Peter could see they were glistening in the dim light of the room. He saw all the pain and anguish there and he didn't have a clue how to fix it.

He just hoped that Neal wasn't irreparably broken.

TBC


	57. Chapter 57

By 10:30, Neal and Peter had finished drinking the huge thermos of coffee Elizabeth had sent over and Neal had left nothing but a few crumbs on his plate. He’d sobered up enough to carry on a coherent, intelligent conversation and when Peter suggested he pack up his stuff and head back to Brooklyn with him, Neal was not so secretly relieved.

‘You sure El’s okay with this?’ Neal asked, not wanting to rock the boat in the Burke household.

Peter smiled kindly. ‘She’s the one who suggested it.’

Neal should have known; for all her bluster and self-righteousness, Elizabeth Burke had a huge heart, especially when it came to her husband’s ex-CI. Without hesitation, he began to stuff his meagre belongings in the bag he’d been living out of for the past few days.

‘I have to admit it’ll be a relief not to have to spend another night in this… delightful abode’ he said with a crooked grin.

‘But there _is_ one condition’ Peter warned as Neal looked over at his best friend. ‘I don't want you drinking like you did tonight and you need to follow through on everything Marion Birch has asked you to do.’

Neal nodded. The truth was he couldn't wait to get started on his road to sobriety. This roller coaster he'd been on for the last few weeks was exhausting and he wanted off the ride once and for all.

‘I promise I won’t overdo it - but Peter, I can’t quit cold turkey’ Neal admitted, his eyes narrowing.

‘And I’m not asking you to’ Peter said. ‘Just follow the program and you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need to.’

‘Deal!’ Neal said as he walked over to where Peter had begun collecting everything he’d brought over from home.

The two men stood, inches apart and Peter’s eyes locked on Neal’s as the younger man gave him a weak smile. The next thing he knew, Neal had thrown his arms around him and was hugging him tightly.

‘Thanks Peter… for believing in me’ Neal murmured before pulling away, slightly embarrassed at his sudden lack of self-restraint.

Peter gave him a reassuring smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘You’ve never let me down before, buddy’ he said with a shaky voice.

‘And Peter…’ Neal said. ‘This thing with Sara… well, I’m not proud of the way I acted…’

Peter knew what Neal was asking. ‘Don’t worry about it, Neal. It’s in the vault.’

‘Thank you’ Neal responded, his voice quiet. ‘We’ll find a way to work it out… it’s just that, well, it wasn't my finest moment and… I’d just rather not broadcast it to everyone.’

‘Understood’ Peter repeated. ‘So, you ready to hit the road?’

Neal took a not so longing look around the sparsely furnished room. ‘You have no idea.’

WCWCWC

Sara Ellis lay in bed on Saturday night, quietly crying herself to sleep while faithful Raffle snoozed at her feet. The cold, empty space next to her on the bed was a constant reminder of the rift between her and her husband, a rift she couldn't wait to finally put behind them, for good. There were some things she needed to say to Neal before they were able to get back to normal. He needed to know how powerless she’d felt when he'd trapped her up against the kitchen counter that night, how disappointed she’d been at his lack of regard for her wishes, how hurt she’d felt that he thought so little of what they had both been through over the past few months to behave that way, whether he'd been sober or drunk.

She’d been trying to keep the family unit together while Neal crumbled next to her, unable to cope with what had happened to Hope and his perceived role in her accident. The truth was she was exhausted - exhausted from trying to keep everyone’s spirit up, exhausted from watching her beautiful daughter struggle every day, exhausted from having to do everything all by herself while Neal licked his wounds and shut himself off from the rest of the world.

Despite her frustration, she’d fought all evening not to call him and ask how his session with Marion had gone. She’d thought better of it; just the sound of his voice might be enough to tip the balance and she could so easily fall apart and beg him to come home - where they both belonged. But that wasn't the prudent thing to do. They needed to have a serious talk before she could put what had happened behind her, without rancour, and she willed herself to turn over and close her eyes, summoning Raffie and wrapping her arms around his big, hairy frame - a poor substitute indeed for the likes of Neal Caffrey.

Now that Neal had agreed to get help, there was finally light at the end of the tunnel and Sara wiped away the tears - tears of relief that they were finally headed in the right direction. The road to recovery would be long and once Neal was back on track, she would be more than happy to stand by him and support him through the next few weeks and months just like he'd done for her so many times in the past. 

There was a soft knock on the door to her room and she sat up, startled.

‘Mom?’ she heard as the door creaked open to reveal both Liam and Caitlin standing there.

‘We’re just going to bed and we wanted to say goodnight’ said Caitlin as she stepped in and sat on the edge of the bed.

Sara wiped her eyes before turning on the bedside lamp to see two very worried faces.

‘Mom…’ Liam added as he took a step closer. ‘Caitlin and I were talking… we know something happened between you and Dad but…’

‘Do you think Mr. C will come home soon?’ Caitlin interjected, cutting to the chase.

Sara could see the concern in their eyes. Although she wasn't prepared to share the details of what had transpired between her and Neal, she knew they weren't stupid and they were fully aware something major had taken place and that it had been Sara’s choice to have Neal leave the house. It stood to reason that ultimately, it would be her decision as to whether or not he was welcome back.

‘Look, I know you two are worried, but don't be. I think your dad and I will be able to work things out… we just need a little time’ she said, taking Caitlin’s hand.

Liam stepped in a little closer and Sara could see lines forming on his forehead.

‘Because… well, I don't know where he is tonight but he called me earlier to ask me to meet him tomorrow and… well, I think he was drinking again. Mom, he needs you… he needs all of us if he’s going to get better.

Sara nodded; she knew that to be a fact.

‘You’re right, honey. And he and I will work things out, I promise, and we’ll bring him home. I just need a couple of days to… well, to get past it’ Sara answered cryptically.

‘Okay’ Caitlin said softly as she leaned in to kiss her foster mother’s cheek. ‘Well, goodnight Sara.’

‘Goodnight sweetie’ Sara answered at the teens prepared to leave. ‘Guys, try not to worry, okay. We’ll bring him home and we’ll all help him get through this.’

The door closed and she let herself fall back on the pillow, murmuring under her breath.

‘Sleep tight, Caffrey.’

WCWCWC

Neal woke a little worse for wear on Sunday morning and it took him a few moments to situate himself - this was _not_ the antiseptic room at the Webster Hotel or his warm, comfortable bed in White Plains but it _was_ the nicely appointed guest room in the Burke house.

He replayed the events of the previous night, Peter’s encouraging words and El’s warm welcome when they had finally made it back. He was grateful for such wonderful and loyal friends and he thought ahead to the coming day with an optimism he hadn't felt for a long, long time. He’d made plans to meet Liam for brunch and he wanted to check in on Hope at the hospital after leaving her high and dry the previous day. His mind went to Sara, beautiful, loving Sara and he turned in bed, hugging the pillow as he thought of her warm, inviting body and just how much he missed waking up next to her. He hoped that, when the time came, he would find the words to let her know just how very sorry he was for the way he’d behaved and that she would be able to forgive him for his wanton lack of respect for her.

Sara Ellis was one strong lady, a steel hand in a velvet glove, and he thought of all she’d endured since Hope’s accident. Not only had she been there for their daughter, she’d managed to keep the family together and put up with his intolerable behaviour as he slowly fell apart in front of her eyes. So much for the weaker sex - but then again, Neal had always known just how strong and resilient his wife was, beyond anything he could ever hope to be.

‘Neal?’ came El’s voice through the door. ‘I’ve got Liam on the phone. Do you want to take it?’

Neal sat up straight, a smile on his face. ‘Yeah, yeah, got it. Thanks El’ he said as he grabbed for the phone on the bedside table.

‘Hey buddy’ he said, his voice chipper.

‘Hey Dad. I tried your cell but…’

Neal glanced over at his cell phone on the night table, picking it up and examining it. ‘Yeah, sorry, it… died’ he said.

‘So, you still up for brunch?’ he asked, his voice chipper. ‘I thought we’d hit Mel’s.’

He could almost hear Liam smiling at the other end. They had surprisingly good eggs benedict at Mel’s to say nothing of the outstanding coffee.

‘Yeah!’ Liam enthused. ‘I’ll get Mom to drive me over.’ 

‘All right. See you at noon, buddy’ Neal said as he sat up in bed.

He was going to spend time with his son and suddenly, the day was looking brighter.

WCWCWC

Sundays were always a little quieter on the rehab floor of Bronx Lebanon. Most of the regular staff was off on weekends and except for a few patients who were on an accelerated rehab schedule, there was hardly anyone in the large gym. Hope buckled down, working hard to make it through her prescribed program, cursing and sweating as she diligently did her stretching exercises and followed that up with a few more steps. Amanda was encouraging and helpful and except for that brief knot in her stomach when she’d seen the woman flirting with Cam, Hope quite liked her - as long as she kept her paws off her boyfriend.

She looked up towards the large window overlooking the gym and waved to Cameron who smiled down and blew her a kiss. She didn't particularly like him seeing her like this but he’d reminded her that they were a team and that there were no secrets between them - not anymore.

By the time she made it back up to the floor, she was hot and sweaty and the nurse on duty suggested a bath, something Hope readily agreed to, considering Olivia Mason was scheduled to drop in for an afternoon visit. The nurse wheeled Hope out of her hospital room and into the adapted washroom down the hall where she proceeded to help the young patient prepare for her bath.

The warm water was soothing and Hope let herself relax after her intense workout; the only thing that could possibly have made it any better would have been a soak in the bath back home - _with_ bubbles.

She could hear the sound of laughter as she was wheeled out of the bathroom and pointed in the direction of her room and she recognized the familiar sound of a man’s voice and the lilt of a woman’s higher pitched voice. She rounded the corner and spotted Cameron and her physiotherapist by the nurse’s station, laughing as they chatted with one of the nurses. Amanda’s hand came to rest on Cam’s arm and she said something softly as he nodded and smiled.

Hope instantly felt a multitude of emotions - anger, jealousy, sadness - at the sight of handsome, healthy Cameron Armstrong and beautiful Amanda Grier, side by side. If she’d been an innocent bystander, she might have thought they made a lovely couple. But she was no bystander and she could feel her blood boiling as she got nearer, the sound of the wheelchair snapping Cam out of the conversation he’d been having with the young woman.

‘Hey! There she is… the most beautiful girl in the world!’ he cooed as he walked towards Hope and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. ‘Mmmm. You smell good’ he added as he inhaled.

Hope cringed once again at his use of the word beautiful, obviously a very loose interpretation and she glared at Amanda, who didn't seem to notice and turned her attention to one of the nurses behind the desk.

Hope was getting more and more annoyed and increasingly unable to hide it, and she gave Cam an exasperated look that was part anger, part hurt. Cameron frowned in response; he could always tell when Hope was pissed off, whether she had full use of language or not.

‘You okay?’ he asked as he took over from the nurse and started pushing the wheelchair the last few feet towards her room.

Hope shooed his hand away impatiently. She could damn well roll the chair the rest of the way by herself, she screamed silently.

‘G-g-got it!’ she said out loud, her voice clipped.

Cam’s face fell at his fiancée’s reaction - not quite certain what had brought on the sour mood. Despite her limited use of speech, she seemed hell bent on picking a fight with him and he was having none of it.

‘Hope, sweetie…’ he asked patiently as he followed her into her room. ‘Have I done something to upset you?’

Hope was smart enough to know she was overreacting but she couldn't seem to help herself. Seeing Cam enjoying the company of another woman, especially one as pretty and smart as her therapist, had thrown her for a loop and she took a moment to regroup before speaking.

’T-tired’ she lied. ‘Livia…’

‘I didn't realize Olivia was coming over’ Cam said, his voice calm and loving - just enough to make her mad at herself for acting so juvenile.

‘How about I give you two some girl time and come back for dinner? Give me time to check in at the gallery.’ he suggested, still unsure what the problem was.

Hope nodded and Cam took her chin in his hand, lifting her head and forcing her to look at him.

‘Hope, whatever it is you’re pissed off about…’ he said softly. ‘Just remember I love you.’

Now, she felt like crap. He hadn't done anything wrong, not really. Being friendly to her therapist was not a capital crime and she gave him a weak smile; maybe she _did_ need a little rest before her best friend came by for a visit.

Cam stood and made his way to the door, turning to wave and wink before leaving. She watched him leave until he was almost out of sight and then she sat up in bed and craned her head so she could see him as he continued his way down the hall.

He slowed his steps and suddenly Amanda was there again, by his side, and Hope watched, her blood boiling, as they walked away together towards the elevator.

TBC


	58. Chapter 58

Neal watched with interest as Liam dove into his breakfast, hollandaise sauce smeared on his chin.

‘Good?’ he asked as Liam nodded, not even bothering to slow down.

‘Delicious’ he answered with his mouth full.

‘Slow down, buddy. This isn't a race’ Neal said with a chuckle.

Spending quality time with his kids was one of Neal’s favourite things, especially these days when their lives had been turned upside down. He looked forward to them being all together again but he knew there were still some hurdles to overcome before they could enjoy going out to breakfast as a family. He took a bite of his cheese and mushroom omelet and a sip of coffee before speaking.

‘So tell me, how are things with you and Cody? You still going strong?’ he asked.

‘Yeah’ Liam answered, knowing full well he was going to have to cough up more than a one word answer to satisfy his father’s curiosity. He looked up to see Neal, staring back at him, eyebrows raised, as he waited patiently for details.

‘It’s even better than when we were together before’ Liam explained. ‘We’re communicating a lot better this time and… well, he’s been really helpful… you know, with everything that’s going on.’

Neal nodded; it was nice to see his son so animated as he spoke about the young man in his life. All he ever wanted was for both of his kids to be happy and he could see that Cody Miller’s presence in Liam’s life brought him a lot of joy. He thought back to the disaster that had been Liam’s birthday. He could only imagine how mortified his son had been when he’d waltzed into Hope’s hospital room, waving that cake and acting so inappropriately - all of it right in front of Cody.

‘Look, I know I’ve said it before’ Neal started, suddenly embarrassed. ‘But I’m _really_ sorry about what happened on your birthday. I know you were really upset and I promise, I’ll make it up to you.’

Liam shrugged. He didn't want to rehash what had happened that day. He wanted to look ahead to the future - a time when his dad would finally come home and they could be a family again. Neal could see he wasn't going to get much more out of his son on the subject of his relationship with Cody so he decided to move on to another topic. 

‘When do you get your final marks?’ he asked over the loud hum of the diner.

‘They’ll send them in the mail in a couple of weeks’ Liam answered, between bites. ‘But I really aced that paper on climate change.I got an A.’

‘That’s fantastic! You really worked hard on that thing’ Neal enthused, recalling the countless hours Liam had put into the project, doing research, interviewing people.

‘So, what are your plans for the start of summer vacation?’ he asked.

‘Tomorrow, I’m playing paint ball with some of the guys and we’re having a pizza night over at Cody’s place. Oh, I think I forgot to tell you, Mr. Thompson offered me a job again this summer at the garden centre’ Liam said proudly.

‘You’re kidding? That’s great!’ Neal exclaimed.

He reflected that, if he was living at home like normal dads or wasn't constantly under the influence, he’d probably know about this already. Come to think of it, Sara might have mentioned something about it a couple of weeks ago. How come he hadn't been paying more attention to all those things, large and small, that meant so much to Liam.

‘How many hours a week?’ Neal asked, feeling totally out of the loop.

‘Twenty… and I’m on call if someone calls in sick’ Liam answered proudly. ‘ _And_ he’s paying me ten bucks an hour because I’m returning for a second year.’

‘That’s fantastic - a dollar over the minimum wage. That’s… like almost two hundred bucks more over the course of the summer’ Neal exclaimed, pleased for his son. ‘Did you tell him you needed a couple of weeks off in August when we go away to the cottage?’

‘Mom said that was still up in the air’ Liam answered as Neal’s eyes grew in surprise.

‘She did?’ 

Of course, with Hope recuperating, all bets were off but he couldn't think of a better place for her to get back on her feet, swimming, taking leisurely walks and relaxing by the water. Maybe Sara thought _he_ was the one who wouldn't be up to having their annual excursion this year.

‘She said you two had to talk about it but I’m sure I can get the time off if I ask ahead of time’ Liam said as he grabbed for his glass of orange juice and chugged down half of it in one long gulp.

Neal nodded and kept eating. Going away to the cottage they rented up in the Muskokas was a sacred ritual; they’d been doing it every year since Hope was barely a year-old. He might have been _physically_ absent from the house for only a few days but it was becoming increasingly clear that he’d been emotionally unavailable for a lot longer than that. He thought of all those nights he’d spent on the couch when he should have been up in bed with his wife, sharing their daily lives, talking about the kids, making plans for the coming days and weeks. When had a bottle of scotch become more important than all that?

‘So… how is she?’ Neal asked, the question that was burning on his lips.

He’d observed Sara arriving at the restaurant as she’d dropped Liam off, amused as she drove right over one of the flower beds near the parking lot entrance. She was a horrible driver, always had been, and he teased her about it mercilessly every chance he got. He’d give anything right now to needle her and watch her react with a playful shove or a sharp hip jab to knock him off balance, the exchange inevitably ending with both of them in stitches or in a loving clinch.

‘You mean Mom?’ Liam asked as if there was any other ‘she’ his dad would be asking about. He hesitated for a moment, unsure how much he should share. He decided this wasn't the time to be cagey; his dad needed to know what was _really_ going on at home. After all, it might motivate him to work harder to get himself sorted out.

‘She was crying last night…’ he admitted. ‘She misses you.’

Neal looked back, smiling sadly. ‘I miss her too… so much. I miss all of you’ he answered, staring into his son’s eyes. ‘Your mom and I are seeing the therapist on Tuesday. I’m hoping we can work things out and that she’ll be okay with me coming home.’

‘I don’t understand why she’s not letting you come home now that you’re getting treatment’ Liam confessed. He wasn't privy to any of the details regarding the quarrel between his parents but he desperately wanted his dad home and the sooner, the better.

‘Buddy, this is _not_ your mom’s fault’ Neal said adamantly. ‘Look, you’re not a kid anymore and I’m not going to pretend nothing happened between us. You were there the other night, you know we had a fight and… well, it was _totally_ my fault, not Mom’s and I have to give her a little time to think things through.’

Liam’s face grew serious. ’What if Mom… what if she doesn't forgive you and never lets you come back?’ he asked, worry in his eyes.

Neal reached out to touch Liam’s arm and willed himself to sound confident. ‘Let’s take things one day at a time, okay? I love your mom and I _know_ she loves me… I’m hoping we can find a way to work things out.’

Liam still look worried and Neal felt compelled to continue. ‘Liam, you and Hope mean everything to me…that’s never, ever going to change, buddy.’

The waitress appeared and Liam pulled his hand away, slightly embarrassed. He watched as she grabbed their empty plates and his eyes returned to his dad’s loving gaze as he smiled back wistfully.

WCWCWC

‘You look like you’re ready to spit nails, what’s wrong?’ Olivia Mason asked.

She’d been sitting with Hope for the past ten minutes and she could tell her best friend was pissed off about something. It was difficult to decipher what was going on in Hope’s mind at any given time especially considering her current limitations - something that only added to Hope’s increasing level of frustration.

‘C-Cam!’ she exclaimed, louder than she’d expected.

‘Cam? What about him? Did you guys have a fight?’ Olivia asked.

Hope shook her head and frowned, trying to find concise words to explain why she was so angry. She grabbed for the pad by her bed and, hands shaking, she wrote: PT FLIRTING.

‘PT? You mean your physiotherapist?’ she asked as Hope nodded.

‘Cam is _flirting_ with your physiotherapist?’ Olivia asked, incredulous. This was worse than playing charades.

Hope shook her head vehemently and gave her best friend a nasty look.

‘Oh, _she’s_ flirting with _him_ ’ Olivia ventured to Hope’s decisive head nod.

‘Well, you don’t have anything to worry about on that score. Check your finger there’ Olivia reminded her, pointing to the diamond solitaire on her best friend’s left hand. ‘Believe me, Cameron Armstrong is a sure thing. You’re _never_ getting rid of him, girl!’

Hope rolled her eyes and, with her hands, she gestured the form of a curvaceous female figure and she proceeded to flutter her eyelashes in an exaggerated way.

‘So, she’s flirting with him, so what? Cam’s not interested in anybody else but you’ Olivia said in her no nonsense way. ‘Since when are _you_ so insecure? Cameron worships the ground you walk on and you know it, Hope.’

Olivia had been along for the ride. She’d watched from the sidelines as Cameron Armstrong had fallen in love with her best friend, courting her as Hope hesitated at first about making a commitment. She’d been there when Hope had decided to break up with him before leaving for Pittsburgh the first time and how uncertain she’d been about her feelings for him right up until she’d returned to New York the previous Christmas. Hope had absolutely nothing to worry about and yet, the usually self-assured young woman had seemingly developed a severe case of self-doubt as it pertained to her fiancé.

Olivia watched as Hope took the mirror that sat on her bedside table and held it up to her face, grabbing a handful of hair and letting it drop listlessly onto her shoulders. Granted, her dark locks _did_ need brushing but Olivia had always envied Hope’s thick, dark mane of wavy hair. It had been a bone of contention between them for years and Olivia constantly complained about her fine, blond hair which she could never manage to do a thing with.

Hope ran her hand slowly down her cheek, lingering on the scars that ran the full length of her face and Olivia could see tears forming in her eyes.

‘Have you met with the cosmetic surgeon yet?’ she asked, knowing full well what was weighing on her best friend’s mind.

Hope grabbed the pen and awkwardly wrote: SEPTEMBER.

‘That’s not so bad, Hope. It’ll give you a chance to get back on your feet and by Christmas, you’ll be all healed up’ the young woman reminded her.

Hope shrugged indifferently. Olivia was one of the few people she could let herself be honest with and she welcomed her friend’s regular visits; she enjoyed her company and hearing about what everyone in their entourage was up to. On this particular day however, unbeknownst to Hope, Cameron had entrusted Olivia with a secret mission and the young woman surreptitiously checked the time, making what appeared to be a random suggestion.

‘Why don't you let me wash your hair and do it up, huh? It’ll lift your spirits. Didn't you say Cam was coming back at dinnertime?’ she asked innocently.

Hope nodded sadly. Unfortunately, there wasn't much that could make her feel better at the moment but nevertheless, she reached into the bedside table and handed her hairbrush to her best friend who immediately got to work combing it out.

‘It’s so unfair’ Olivia said as she began to untangle the thick mane. ‘I’m stuck with this’ she said, pointing to her hair ‘…and you’ve always had this great wavy hair.’

Hope chuckled; she’d only heard the lament hundreds of times before, going back as far as when they were preschoolers.

‘I know… why don’t I put it up for you, you know like when we went to senior prom’ she suggested as Hope shrugged. She was used to Olivia using her as a life size Barbie doll, doing her hair up in countless styles over the years and complaining about how lucky Hope was to have such great hair.

‘K’ Hope said with a smile. She was snapping out of her bad mood despite herself, thanks to Olivia’s company.

She’d taken out her foul mood on Cam - who didn't deserve her ire in the least - and yet, those creeping insecurities were hard to control.

‘And you know what?’ Olivia babbled on. ‘I brought something over from your closet at home so you can look nice for… dinner’ she said, almost blowing the surprise she was privy to.

Hope glanced at the pretty blue dress her best friend had brought over and smiled. Truth be told, it _would_ be nice to get out of the horrible stretchy active wear they had her wearing every day, even if she _was_ going to be sitting in a hospital room eating overcooked mush.

The more Olivia worked, the more relaxed Hope became and by the time she’d applied some eye makeup and lipstick on her best friend, Hope had an honest to goodness smile on her face.

WCWCWC

‘Here she comes’ Liam said as he and Neal waited in front of Mel’s Diner.

Neal cringed as he watched his wife inching up the busy street, forgetting to put on her flasher as she unintentionally cut off a car and turned into the parking lot.

She spotted him standing there and her face grew tense before she saw the smile on his lips and responded with a grin of her own.

‘Did you two have a good time?’ she asked as the car came to a sudden stop.

‘We did’ Neal said, looking very cool, calm and collected.

If he’d been drinking, it wasn't obvious to her. He seemed self possessed and steady on his feet and Sara momentarily wished she was picking them both up to come home.

‘See you later, Dad’ Liam called out as he made his way to the passenger’s side of the car.

Neal leaned into the open car window, noticing how Sara’s eyes were dark and sunken. It had been a rough few days and he knew he was responsible for the deep lines across her forehead and the pale look on her face.

‘You okay?’ he asked, his voice soft.

‘Surviving’ she said non committal. ‘How are _you_ doing?’

‘I’m good. I have my appointment with the addiction counsellor at ten tomorrow morning’ Neal said. ‘I’m looking forward to getting started.’

Sara looked uncertain as to what to say; she was hoping this was the new beginning they’d all been praying for.

‘Are you staying at Peter and Elizabeth’s?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, call if you need me for anything’ he said.

He leaned in further so he could say goodbye to Liam and his hand grazed Sara’s as she let out a small gasp at the feel of his skin against hers.

‘Take care Repo’ Neal said as he stepped away from the car.

‘You too’ she said, her voice shaky.

And just like that, she was gone again, weaving into traffic as Neal stood alone and watched her go.

WCWCWC

Amanda and Cameron worked diligently, setting the table with hospital cutlery and Bronx Lebanon’s finest unbreakable dishes.

‘Got the flowers’ said Janet, one of the nurses, as she breezed in and placed the bouquet on the small table they had set up in the top floor solarium of the hospital. ‘Oh, and don't you dare rat me out’ she added as she produced a bottle of wine and placed it on the table.

‘Thanks Janet!’ Cam said as he read the label - some inexpensive domestic wine but all the same, it was the intention that counted.

‘This was a great idea, Amanda’ he said as he checked the linen on the table. ‘Thanks for suggesting it.’

‘Well, Hope’s been really down in the dumps and I figured she could use a pick-me-up’ the physiotherapist answered. ‘She’s been going crazy, stuck in those four walls and I figured what better than a romantic dinner with her fiancé to boost her spirits.’

The two women continued to decorate the room with a few special touches as Cam fiddled with opening the wine bottle. He looked around the room, seeing that everything was in place - well, as much as possible in as sterile an environment as a hospital. The sun was shining brightly through the sunroof and the location, up on the top floor of the building, gave them a decent view of the streets below.

He’d ordered a meal from the Pink Cactus, one of Hope’s favourite restaurants and he couldn't wait to see her face when Olivia wheeled her into the room at the appointed time. 

‘I guess all that’s left is the food’ he said as he gave one last appraising look to the makeshift restaurant.

‘Oh, and don't forget, my brother’s coming at 7:00 with his violin to play a few romantic tunes for you’ said Janet, excited.

‘And if you connect us in any way to _any_ of this, we’ll deny it’ Amanda warned with a laugh.

‘Inappropriate use of hospital resources?’ Cam asked as the two women nodded and prepared to leave.

Cameron took a seat at the table and let out a deep sigh. Hope was his whole world and tonight was all about reminding her of that very fact.

TBC


	59. Chapter 59

Hope slammed the side of the wheelchair with her open hand, forcing Olivia to stop dead in her tracks.

‘What?’ Olivia asked innocently.

‘Outs-s-ide’ Hope shouted, pointing towards the end of the hallway.

‘I thought we might try something new today… we could check out that solarium the nurses told me about’ Olivia fibbed. ‘We could sit up there and chat.’

Hope shrugged. Anything was better than staying cooped up within the four walls of her hospital room. She felt energized after her bath and the make-over her best friend had just given her and her foul mood had begun to dissipate - despite her best efforts to nurture it and keep it alive. Even though her big outing consisted of a leisurely cruise up and down the corridors of Bronx Lebanon in a creaky wheelchair, she had to admit it felt nice to get dressed up a little and feel like she was, once again, part of the human race.

Olivia continued pushing her down the hall leading to the elevator, headed for the secret rendezvous up on the top floor of the establishment. She glanced at her watch… right on time. Cameron would be waiting for his beloved, no doubt ready to sweep her off her feet.

When the elevator doors opened on the 8th floor, Hope glanced around the unfamiliar space. Despite the numerous questions buzzing around in her head, she just couldn't be bothered to formulate any of them. Instead, she took in the layout which seemed to consist mostly of hospital rooms and a bustling nursing station. Olivia took a right turn down a long corridor and Hope could see an open space at the end of the hallway, brightly illuminated with natural light, ostensibly coming from a skylight up above. As they got closer, she could hear a familiar tune playing and she smiled as she recognized it, growing louder.

‘Love… th- song’ she managed to say as Olivia chuckled knowingly.

‘I _know_ you do’ she answered as they rounded the corner, revealing the surprise Cameron and his little elves had been working on most of the day. Hope’s jaw dropped as her eyes fell on the young man who had stolen her heart.

At the sight of Hope, he scrambled to his feet and watched in amusement as Hope frowned, slowly coming to the realization that it was no coincidence he was standing there - he’d been lying in wait for her.

‘Cam!’ she exclaimed.

‘Well, my work here is done’ Olivia said as she leaned in to give her best friend a kiss on the cheek. ‘Enjoy yourselves, lovebirds!’

And just like that, Hope’s foul mood disappeared, replaced by the sheer joy of seeing Cameron Armstrong’s smiling face and his wide open arms.

WCWCWC

Neal spent most of Sunday focussed on staying sober. Who could have predicted self-imposed restraint would turn out to be such a challenge for the ex-con. Following his excesses from the night before, he didn't want to push his luck. He was grateful for Peter and Elizabeth’s hospitality and he wanted to show them just how much he appreciated their support by remaining on this side of sober. He had the odd drink here and there throughout the day, aware of the need to monitor his intake, all the while imbibing just enough to keep the now familiar shakes and headaches at bay.

The highlight of his day was Sara’s late afternoon phone call to wish him well with his appointment the next day. He lay on the bed in the guest room, listening to her soft, soothing voice, eyes closed as he visualized her face, lines likely forming on her forehead, her beautiful green eyes narrowed with worry for him. He did his best to reassure her that he was up to the challenge and that he was looking forward to their joint Tuesday morning appointment with Marion Birch, an opportunity to begin to find their way back to each other. The call ended with Sara’s assurances that she believed in him and Neal bit his lip, trying not to get overly sentimental as he reiterated his love and devotion for her and the kids. 

After dinner, he and Peter headed over to the Blue Skies Nursing Home in New Rochelle to pay Linda Bennett a short visit. His mom was thrilled to see him and was, as always, supportive despite the lack of energy that continued to plague her. As Neal prepared to leave, she called him over to her bedside and he could see she was clutching something firmly in her frail hand.

‘Honey, this for you’ she said, her voice tired.

Neal’s eyes moved to her open hand, noticing what appeared to be some sort of medal.

‘This is my most recent sobriety medallion’ she said, her voice quiet. ‘I get one every year on the anniversary of my sobriety.’

Neal frowned at the sight of something that was so meaningful to her.

‘But Mom…’ he began.

‘Shhh, I _want_ you to have it, Neal. I’m hoping it’ll bring you luck on your new journey’ she whispered.

Neal’s eyes filled with tears at the generosity of this woman whom he hadn't always treated with the deference and respect she deserved. She was in his corner, for better or for worse, and that meant the world to him.

He kissed her forehead and watched her eyes drift shut. ‘Thanks Mom. I promise I’ll take really good care of it.’

WCWCWC

By ten o’clock on Sunday night, Neal was ensconced in the Burkes’ guest room, sipping from his flask and enjoying the warmth of the alcohol as it travelled down his throat. After three long sips, he set the container aside and lay back on the bed, willing himself to relax. Monday was going to be a big day and he wanted to be up to the challenge now that he knew everyone was on his side. He had so much riding on this and he didn't want to blow it, not now.

Despite his best intentions, his eyes kept returning to the flask he’d set aside and when Peter popped his head in shortly before eleven to say goodnight, Neal decided he needed help to cope with the unrelenting temptation.

‘Peter, can you put this away for me until tomorrow?’ Neal asked as he sat up and reached for the flask.

Peter stepped all the way into the room and loomed over Neal’s laying form. ‘Temptation a bit too much?’ he asked as he took the recipient from his friend’s hands.

‘I’m feeling a little uptight about tomorrow and I don't want to… fall into my old patterns’ Neal admitted sheepishly.

‘Good idea’ Peter agreed. ‘There’s nothing wrong with asking for a little help. I’ll make sure you get it back in the morning.’

He turned to leave and Neal watched him go, grateful for a friend like Peter Burke.

‘Oh, and Peter’ he added. ‘Thanks… for everything.’

‘Sweet dreams, buddy’ Peter countered before closing the door behind him.

WCWCWC

Cameron and Hope lay on the narrow hospital bed, holding each other close. They’d had a wonderful time, sharing an excellent meal and enjoying the warm sun which had slowly faded only to be replaced by a full, red moon. She’d been practically dozing in her chair by the time he'd convinced her to return to her floor, well past ten o’clock and _way past_ lights out on the rehab ward.

‘So, you liked my little surprise?’ he asked unnecessarily. Hope’s joy had been written all over her face all evening long.

She nodded enthusiastically and squeezed him tighter.

‘Amanda was the one who suggested it. She said you’d been feeling down. I thought you might have seen us plotting earlier and I was afraid you’d figured out what we were talking about.’

Hope smiled to herself; she’d definitely drawn the wrong conclusions about the young physiotherapist.

‘Thanks’ she whispered, already half asleep.

‘And I got us a meeting with Dr. White on Tuesday afternoon to discuss your release’ he added. ‘Your mom and dad will be there, too. You’ll see, we’ll talk him into it.’

Hope felt herself drifting away, all the insecurities and unfounded fears forgotten as she floated blissfully to sleep with Cameron’s loving arms around her.

WCWCWC

Neal sat in the waiting room, legs jittery and hands wringing obsessively as he waited to be summoned into the inner office. He glanced furtively at the woman who was sitting next to him; he wondered if _she_ was there for the same reason he was. He gave her a tentative smile and returned his eyes to the nearby hallway which lead to the offices, waiting to be summoned.

Upon arrival, he’d slipped into the men’s room and taken a couple of fortifying sips from his flask, dutch courage and all that. He hoped he didn't reek of scotch. He had just brought his hand up to his mouth to sample his breath when a large man appeared, looming in the doorway, a warm smile on his face.

‘Neal! Hi, I’m Jim. Come on in’ he said, his hand outstretched.

Neal got to his feet, legs shaking and shook his hand - a decisive yet warm handshake - and he relaxed a little as he followed the tall, burly man down the hall and into an office behind one of the closed doors.

‘Have a seat’ Jim McDougall said jovially as he pointed to a comfortable chair nearby. ‘Coffee?’ he asked.

‘Sure, thanks’ Neal answered as he took a seat.

‘Did you have any trouble finding the place?’ James asked as he grabbed a couple of oversized mugs from a small shelf.

‘No, not at all. Marion gave me great directions’ Neal said, as he began scoping out the room - a throwback to his conman days.

He let his eyes roam around the small, tastefully decorated space. There was a desk off in the corner of the room but the space was dominated by a cosy sitting area with two comfortable chairs facing each other and a round coffee table set between them. A soapstone sculpture of a panther sitting atop the table caught his eye, not so much for its aesthetic value but because it sat there so prominently, a centrepiece of sorts which was surely symbolic of something, although Neal wasn't quite sure what that might be.

He watched the counsellor hover near the small counter where the coffee maker was set up alongside what looked like a small basket of pastries. The man was as big as a refrigerator, his dark skin glistening, no doubt from the effort of carrying around his bulky frame everywhere he went. Without doubt, he tipped the scales at over 350 pounds but he managed to carry himself with grace and agility despite the extra weight and his age, which Neal estimated to be about the same as his - late fifties, early sixties. He watched as Jim McDougall poured them each a mug of coffee and brought the basket of muffins over, placing everything on the small table between them, right next to the sculpture.

‘Cream?’ he asked.

‘Yes, please’ Neal answered. He’d known the guy for all of five minutes but he already liked his laid back approach and his warm, welcoming smile - a friendly giant of sorts.

‘Soapstone…’ Neal commented as he ran his hand over the smooth sculpture. ‘Inuit?’

Jim smiled. ‘Are you an art connoisseur?’

‘I dabble’ Neal said, self deprecatingly.

‘I got it when I worked up in Whitehorse’ Jim answered wistfully. ‘I was going through a rough patch and a friend of mine sculpted it for me. Panthers symbolize reclaiming your true power…’

Neal could see the item had special significance for the man and he was reminded that everyone had a story.

Jim settled back into his seat, the chair disappearing under his impressive girth and he brought the coffee cup to his lips as he gave Neal a friendly smile.

‘So, tell me Neal, when was your last drink?’ he asked, cutting to the chase.

Neal cleared his throat as he pondered the question, tempted to deflect. ‘Mmm. I had a drink in the bathroom about ten minutes ago’ he admitted, surprisingly easily.

After all, he wasn't there to play games or try to camouflage his drinking - he was here for help and even _he_ realized that involved honesty and a certain level of trust.

Jim nodded and Neal noted there was not a shred of judgement in his eyes.

‘What’s your poison of choice?’ he asked as Neal pulled out his flask and set it down on the table between them.

‘Surprisingly… scotch - of which I’ve never been a fan until recently’ Neal admitted with a wry smile.

‘Funny how that is. For me, it was vodka’ James said, without hesitation. ‘I had no interest in the stuff until I realized how easy it was to camouflage it on my breath.’

Neal looked at him quizzically; it hadn't occurred to him that Jim McDougall, addiction counsellor, might be personally acquainted with the struggles of alcohol dependence.

‘I know. People are always surprised to find out that I’m a recovering alcoholic myself. But many of us in this field are…as a matter of fact, that’s what drew me to counselling in the first place. I started to drink after college. I played football for three years and I was being courted by a couple of professional teams. My last year, I tore my ACL and I was in agonizing pain. That, and the realization that I’d never have the pro career I’d always dreamed of, threw me for a loop and the next thing I knew, I was downing a twenty-six ounce bottle of Smirnoff each and every day.’

Neal listened in silence as the man lay himself bare in front of him. He couldn't help but admire him for his honesty.

‘What made you… stop?’ Neal asked, not wanting to pry, yet fascinated with the man’s story.

‘My son’ James said. ‘He was three years old at the time and one night, when I was left alone with him, I got so sloshed I passed out and he wandered out of the house without me knowing.’

Neal’s eyes widened at the horrific story.

‘Was he…’

‘No, God was watching over us that day and a neighbour found him wandering the streets in his pyjamas and brought him home, unharmed. But my marriage ended shortly after that. My wife was never able to forgive me.’

Neal thought of some of the things _he’d_ done over the past few months; it was amazing nothing horrible had happened, especially when he was out on the roads, behind the wheel.

‘I was lucky’ James continued. ‘I lost custody of my son but we’ve managed to rebuild our relationship over the past few years. He’s twenty-eight now and I see him every week. But I lost my wife, my soulmate… let’s just say that what happened that day was just one more thing in a long string of incidents and she’d been more than patient with me.’

Neal stared at the man, watching as he confided in a virtual stranger and he couldn't help but admire him for taking responsibility for his actions and moving on.

‘Anyway, I decided I wanted to put everything I’d been through to good use so others might be spared the same kind of heartache… so I went back to school and I’ve been working as an addiction counsellor for the past twenty-one years.’

‘And you never… you never fell off the wagon?’ Neal asked, pressing his luck.

For the first time, Neal saw a small flicker of regret in the man’s kind eyes as he cleared his throat.

‘I did… about fifteen years ago. I decided to go into a twenty-eight day rehab program and I was able to kick the habit… so far, for good.’

‘What are you saying? That you can never really put it behind you?’ Neal asked, suddenly concerned about his own fate.

‘You know Neal, everybody’s different. For me, even a sip will probably push me over the edge so I don't even dare take a chance. Some people are able to drink again. It’s one of the mysteries of life.’

James could see Neal’s face darken and he immediately put him at ease. ‘Don’t worry. If you’re willing to enter into this treatment program with good intentions and you’re always honest with me and more importantly with yourself, you can come out of this a better man than when you came in.’

He waited a moment while Neal took in all he’d heard and he watched Neal take a sip of coffee, his hands trembling.

‘So, how about you tell me about your journey’ James said.

Neal hesitated for a moment, unsure how much detail he should share. His early years had definitely shaped his personality. He’d struggled with a lack of impulse control since he was a kid and he knew that character flaw informed all his actions, still today, as evidenced by his inability to resist the call of his friend, Jack Daniels.

‘I had a rough life growing up and I did some pretty… nasty stuff’ Neal began. ‘I was into small cons that grew into bigger cons and I ended up in prison where I spent over four years before I was recruited by the FBI to work with their white collar division. I met an amazing man. He was my handler and he worked for years to try to get me on the straight and narrow. But what really turned it around for me was the birth of my daughter. I didn't want her to suffer from my poor life choices so I decided to make some changes.’

James listened, sipping his coffee in silence.

‘I’m married to this amazing woman, a real force of nature’ Neal said with a chuckle. ‘She keeps me sane and I’m crazy in love with her after twenty years together. My daughter is twenty years old now and we have a son who’s fifteen. They’re both great kids…’ Neal said as his eyes twinkled.

‘We’ve been through a lot. My wife had cancer when our daughter was little and I had a couple of injuries from my work with the FBI but we’re solid, you know… well, we _were_ solid up until recently…’

‘What happened?’ James asked.

‘My daughter, Hope…’ Neal began as a smile crept onto his face. ‘She’s smart and talented… she’s an artist and she studies at Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh… well, she _used_ to study there, up until last March.’

‘What happened last March?’ Jim asked.

‘She came home for study break and one night she and I were out at the art school I run, giving a class together, and on the way out… she was hit by a car.’

James nodded solemnly. What a terrible ordeal for a father to witness.

‘She was a total mess. Traumatic head injury, broken bones, her face was crushed…’ Neal said, his voice cracking at the memory of that night.

His eyes came up to meet the counsellor’s and he began to tear up. ‘She’s still in rehab. She’s got some lingering issues with communicating and she’s going to need some cosmetic surgery for her face.’

‘That’s horrible. And you were there when it happened?’ he asked as Neal nodded.

‘I felt so much guilt. I mean, I was standing right there when it happened and I couldn't keep it from happening. What kind of a father stands by helplessly and watches his little girl get hit by a car?’

‘So, that triggered the drinking?’

Neal nodded. ‘At first, it was just a means to an end. I couldn't sleep for days. I kept replaying the accident over and over again in my head and one night, I had a few shots of some random bottle of scotch we had at home and I ended up passing out. The next thing I knew, I couldn't fall asleep without it… and then, I started getting headaches and the shakes during the day and before I knew it, I was drinking during the day too…’

James nodded; he knew all too well how alcohol could sneak insidiously into your life and grab a hold of you when you least expected it.

‘Tell me about your history with alcohol.’

‘History? That sounds like such a big word. Up until all that happened, I always enjoyed a good glass of wine or two with dinner or sometimes a beer when I was out with friends but… I never gave alcohol a second thought … before now.’

‘Did you used to get drunk a lot? Before all this?’ Jim asked.

‘Rarely, I mean every once in a while I might have gotten tipsy but I never used to drink for effect. It was always, you know, just a nice add-on to a great dinner or something to do to socialize.’

James nodded in understanding.

‘Well now, it’s taken an inordinate place in your life’ Jim concluded. ‘You have to put it back in its place.’

‘Does that mean I can never drink again?’ Neal asked.

‘That depends’ Jim said. ‘We have to start by getting you completely severed and then we canevaluate if you’ll be able to re-learn to drink again. But first things first. Let’s get you out of this mess.’

TBC


	60. Chapter 60

At 10:45 on Monday morning, Sara sat in her office at Sterling Bosch trying, without success, to focus her attention on the Kirchner portrait which sat on the nearby easel. The painting had disappeared from the public eye over fifty years earlier and had been discovered in an upscale townhouse in New Jersey following the owner’s recent death. It was a coup, to be sure, yet Sara couldn’t seem to muster the excitement befitting the recovery of such a long lost piece of art. Instead, her mind lingered on their upcoming appointment with Marion Birch and Neal’s morning visit to the addiction counsellor Marion had recommended.

It had been a long arduous road and now that Neal had agreed to seek treatment, she hoped it was only a question of time before their lives finally returned to normal. Hope still had a long way to go but chances were good the doctor would release her from hospital within a couple of weeks. Although it would be months and maybe years before she fully resumed her life, at least their cherished girl would be with them, where they could watch over her and support her through the rest of her convalescence. Sara thought of Cam and his undying devotion; incredibly, he’d ramped it up a notch, showing the depth of his love and commitment to their daughter. She made a mental note to talk to Neal about opening up their home to the young man while Hope recuperated. It seemed cruel to have them living apart when they had made such a major commitment to each other.

She checked the time, noticing it was almost noon. Despite her better judgement, she was itching to check up on Neal and make sure he was doing all right following his morning appointment. They might be temporarily estranged but he would need her support and encouragement to make a go of it and she wanted him to know she was there for him as he started on his long journey back to his family.

She thought ahead to her one o’clock meeting with one of her underlings; she’d be done within half an hour - that would leave plenty of time for her to pop in to the art school and see how Neal was doing.

WCWCWC

There were many advantages to being a clear minded, fully functioning adult, not the least of which was living in your own home and driving your own car. Neal sat in the back seat of a cab on his way to the June Ellington School of Art, reflecting on how he’d been reduced to living the life of a nomad, sleeping in his best friend’s spare room, seeing his kids intermittently, catching meals on the fly and spending much too much cash on cab rides to and from wherever he needed to be.

It had all been his doing. And he’d had enough.

He wanted his life back. His wife. His kids. His home. His car. His freedom. His independence.

But above all, he wanted to reclaim his dignity and the respect of those he loved so much.

A car horn blared and his cab driver swore under his breath, snapping Neal out of his reverie. He glanced out at the early July day. This was his chance at a brand beginning and following his appointment with Jim McDougall, he was feeling strangely empowered, despite all the hard work that lay ahead.

He’d met with the counsellor for close to two hours, going over all the steps he needed to take in order to dig himself out of the mess he'd created. The task consisted of continued therapy with Marion Birch in order to work through his guilt issues, twice weekly appointments with Jim McDougall to monitor his progress on the recovery front, daily meetings with a self-help group as well as meeting his sponsor who would become his ‘go to’ person if he ran into any trouble.

He glanced down at the piece of paper in his hands. It held the detox schedule he’d agreed to follow, the time and place of his first meeting and the name of the person who would act as his lifeline. Scott Connor. The name meant absolutely nothing to him but Neal knew that before this was all over, he would become closely tied to this stranger. Jim had spoken highly of the man who’d been a former patient of his. He felt Neal and Scott had a lot in common. Besides being close in age, they were both family men and business owners and Scott had fallen victim to alcohol abuse following a traumatic experience - the death of his son, fifteen years earlier. 

Neal stuffed the piece of paper in his pocket. He would call the man as soon as he got to the office to set up a time to get together before the support group meeting scheduled for four o’clock. This would be the new normal for the foreseeable future - attending daily meetings, making new acquaintances and in doing so, hopefully leaving the pain and heartache behind and reuniting with his loving family. Everything seemed overwhelming but Jim had insisted the treatment plan would keep Neal focussed on his recovery and allow him to continue to carry on with his life as before - at home and at work. Still, it was an awful lot to take in and Neal was jolted back to reality as the driver stopped the car abruptly.

‘This is it, buddy’ the driver shouted as he pulled up in front of the school.

WCWCWC

The speech therapy sessions were the most gruelling part of Hope Ellis-Caffrey’s daily regimen. As exhausted as she was following her daily physical therapy, she was nonetheless heartened by the incremental progress she was making. She was walking longer distances every day, to the nursing station and back and the atrophied muscles and recently healed bones in her legs were working hard to support her weight and allow her to move around with increasing confidence. The doctors had predicted a full recovery of her large motor skills and Hope looked forward to a time when she wouldn't have to be pushed in the wheelchair or use a walker to get around.

When it came to speech therapy, however, her frustration ran high - she’d always been a bit of a chatterbox and she had so much she wanted to communicate to everyone, to Cam, to her folks, to Liam, to her friends. Yet, it was as if she always had a hot potato in her mouth, rendering it almost impossible to form the sounds that, up until her accident, she’d never given a second thought to. Heidi Pearson, her kind and patient speech therapist, had explained that the issue was not mechanical; she could still form the sounds needed to formulate words. The problem lay in the fragile connection between the front left side of her brain which was still somewhat swollen and her lungs, larynx, vocal cords, tongue and lips. Learning to breathe while speaking was a major factor and she spent part of the hour every day doing breathing exercises - something Hope found futile and boring.

As the weeks passed, Hope spent much of her time reflecting on her future. Would her fine motor skills improve enough for her to start painting again? Would she ever be able to return to school in Pittsburgh and finish her degree? What would she be able to accomplish, career-wise?

She thought ahead to the coming days. They had a meeting scheduled with Dr. White the following day and she hoped to convince him to let her go home and carry on with her therapy on an out-patient basis. Sure, it would be a nuisance to have to travel to and from the hospital but at least she could sleep in her own bed and maybe, just maybe, she and Cam would finally get the chance to reconnect without constantly having to keep an eye on her hospital room door for unannounced visitors.

A noise was heard and Hope lifted her eyes to find Heidi, standing there, all five-foot-two of bustling energy.

‘Good morning!’ the woman sang out. ‘Are you ready for your workout?’

WCWCWC

Neal stood in line at the liquor store, holding a six pack of beer as well as two individual cans in his hands; no more scotch for him. He didn't dislike beer, per se, but it certainly wasn't something he’d ever thought about having at ten in the morning, as had been prescribed by Jim McDougall. Jim had suggested he buy just enough supplies for one day at a time with a view to keeping him from getting carried away and over imbibing. They had discussed his current consumption and, based on the fact that Neal had been consuming anywhere from twelve to twenty ounces of the hard stuff every day, his detox program - for day one - consisted of one twelve ounce can of beer every ninety minutes from the time he got up to the time he went to bed.

According to Jim’s very specific instructions, Neal needed to reduce the amount incrementally over the next six days and report any problems immediately. He’d provided Neal with his home phone number as well as his cell phone number and insisted he call anytime of the day or night as he navigated through the detox phase of the program. It was essential to follow instructions to the letter and not let the persistent shakes and headaches get the better of him, lest he be tempted to drink more than was permitted. If all went well, he would be alcohol free within a week… and then the hard work of resisting temptation on an ongoing basis would begin.

Neal made his way on foot to the June Ellington School of Art, intent on putting in a couple of hours of work before he had to head out to his very first support group meeting. He held the brown paper bag tightly against his chest. He’d managed to be discreet about his drinking at work although he had the feeling Cindy Harrington, his right arm and good friend, had started to see through his not so convincing façade.

‘Good afternoon!’ he called out to one of the teachers as he navigated through the lobby and into his office, closing the door behind him.

Whether due to the stress of his morning appointment or simply the fact he needed a drink, Neal could feel his legs shaking and he placed the bag at the foot of his desk and proceeded to pull out a can, swallowing it in one long, gluttonous gulp He was drinking for effect and the faster the alcohol moved through his system, the better. He took out the consumption chart Jim had given him and he marked down the time and quantity he’d imbibed and tried to focus his eyes on his computer screen, pulling up his emails. Within minutes, he could feel himself start to settle as the beer did its work, his hands growing steady and his mind clearing.

Summoning his Neal Caffrey persona, he grabbed the phone and dialled the number Jim McDougall had written down for him - no doubt not for the last time.

‘Connor and Sons’ came a cheerful woman’s voice.

‘May I speak with _Scott_ Connor please’ Neal asked, suddenly apprehensive.

‘May I ask who’s calling?’ the voice said, ever so politely.

‘Neal Caffrey.’

‘Just a moment, please’ she replied as some soothing muzak came over the line.

Neal recognized the song immediately, an instrumental rendition of Etta James ‘At Last’ which June had sung at their wedding and he felt a smile creep onto his face as he recalled the feel of his brand new wife in his arms. The happy memory was interrupted by a strong, male voice on the line.

‘Neal!’ Scott Connor said jovially. ‘I’ve been waiting for your call. How are you?’

Neal was pleasantly surprised by the friendliness in the man’s voice and he let out a slow, steadying breath before responding.

‘I’m… good, I think’ Neal admitted, his voice tentative.

‘I’m really looking forward to meeting you. Jim tells me you’re joining our men’s group this afternoon.’

Neal chuckled nervously. ‘Apparently so.’

‘I’d love to meet with you before… if you have the time. I thought we might grab a coffee. There’s a little coffee shop right next to the community centre… it’s called June’s’ he said.

Neal’s smile grew - serendipity, he thought. ‘That sounds great. How about we make it three o’clock?’

‘Perfect! And Neal, try to relax… they’re a great bunch of guys and there’s absolutely no judgement there’ Scott added, kindly.

Neal could feel a lump forming in his throat at the thought of sharing his personal life with strangers and yet, the voice on the other end was calm and reassuring. 

‘Thanks Scott!’ he said before hanging up.

WCWCWC

‘Ouch’ Liam cried out as he was hit right in the stomach by the big, yellow blotch of paint.

They were on their second game of paintball and he was feeling uncharacteristically tired - hence not very sharp. He felt the sweat running down his back as he lifted his paintball gun over his head in a sign of defeat and he shuffled over to the safe zone where Carlos Perez was recuperating from a hit straight to his face.

‘They got you good!’ Liam said with a laugh.

‘Will’s the only one left’ Carlos said, unnecessarily.

They were playing three on three in the large field just outside the city limits, enjoying the first day of summer holidays and the bright, glorious sunshine. It was great to finally be free of the shackles of the daily grind: homework, studying, exams and Liam was intent on making the best of it. He could feel his hands start to shake a little and he stared down at them, willing them to stop. He’d been doing a lot of running since he got there and he knew he hadn't had enough to eat before they’d left Cody’s place. He really _should_ listen to his mom when she nagged him about always checking he had a snack in his backpack.

He was usually pretty good about managing his diabetes but he’d eaten the granola bar from his secret stash on the last day of school when he’d started to get a pounding headache and he’d totally forgotten to replace it. He glanced at his watch; luckily, it was almost time to go and he’d make sure to have something to eat as soon as they got back to the Miller place.

‘Shit!’ he heard nearby as his best friend, Will Allenby, took a hit and fell at his feet.

The teams were tied at one win apiece and Liam knew darn well Cody would never accept a tie as the final outcome. For all his wonderful qualities, Cody Miller was argumentative and a poor loser to boot.

‘Let’s go one last time!’ the three boys heard Cody call out from the other end of the field.

Damn Cody and his competitive streak.

WCWCWC

Neal had just finished his second ‘prescription’ Budweiser and he was feeling in total control of his faculties. The quantity of alcohol seemed to be just enough to quell those persistent shakes he'd been having and keep his mind clear and sharp. He'd managed to catch up on his emails and he’d just wrapped up a meeting with two of his staff when he realized it was almost time to pack up his things. He should be making tracks if he was going to make it to his rendezvous with Scott Connor.

There was a discreet knock at the door and it opened a few inches to reveal a beautiful redhead in a gorgeous emerald dress and a pair of four inch stiletto heels.

‘Sara!’ Neal called out as he stood to greet her. ‘What are you doing here?’

What might have been perceived as a reproach was anything but as was apparent by the huge smile that appeared on his face.

‘Hi!’ she said as she stepped in gingerly. ‘I didn’t want to bother you…’

Neal’s smile grew even more and he made his way over to stand next to her, resisting the urge to give her a welcome hug or place a soft kiss on her lips.

‘Of course not. I just… I wasn't expecting you, that’s all’ he said, pleasantly surprised.

‘The place looks great…’ she said, suddenly flustered. ‘I love that new display out front…’

‘Oh yeah, that’s… that’s the Thursday night class. They’re working on a nature theme…’ Neal explained ineffectually.

He and Sara were rarely at a loss for words yet, in this sterile environment, they both seemed tongue tied and ill at ease.

‘Is there something wrong with the kids?’ he asked, suddenly concerned as to the reason for her unannounced visit.

‘No, no, nothing like that’ she answered reassuringly. ‘I’ve just… well, I’ve been thinking about you all morning’ Sara admitted as Neal perched himself on the edge of his desk.

‘Oh yeah?’ he responded, his eyes twinkling.

‘Yeah, I wondered how your meeting went… with the addiction counsellor?’

‘It was good’ Neal enthused. ‘His name is Jim McDougall… a really interesting guy. He’s… got me on a detox program.

Sara got closer and sat on one of the two chairs facing the desk. ‘What… what does that mean?’

Neal reached over behind him and lifted up the empty can of beer he still hadn't disposed of.

‘More beer’ he said with a nervous chuckle. ‘One every ninety minutes or so… for today anyway.’

Sara frowned, obviously needing more details.

‘The detox program lasts over six days and I need to decrease my alcohol consumption gradually… to give my body a chance to adapt.’

‘And how are you feeling?’ she asked.

‘Surprisingly good. It keeps the shakes at bay and my headache disappeared when I had the first one after lunch. I’m just on my way to my first support group… and I’m meeting my sponsor at three.’

‘Wow! You have a sponsor?’ Sara asked, taking it all in.

‘Yeah, his name’s Scott. We talked on the phone. He sounds like a really nice guy… so, lots of support there.’

Sara nodded; she was suddenly feeling like a very heartless wife. Shouldn't she be part of that support system? She gave herself a mental head slap - she’d kicked him out of the house when he needed her the most and they still had issues to work through. It wasn't surprising he needed to make the most of the help that was offered to him. 

Neal seemed to guess what she was thinking as those persistent lines appeared on her forehead.

‘You know the old saying… it takes a village. I guess I need help from a lot of different sources to dig myself out.’

Sara smiled, chasing the frown which had been forming on her face.

‘I was wondering…’ she began tentatively. ‘Would you like to come over for dinner after your meeting? Liam’s over at Cody’s place and Caitlin’s out with her friends. Maybe we can make a start of… well, we can talk about our appointment with Marion tomorrow morning.’

‘Dinner?’ Neal repeated. ‘At the house?’

‘Yeah, would you like that? I mean I can't promise you anything more than maybe… one of your own casseroles from the freezer’ she said as they both laughed out loud.

‘That would be great’ Neal said as he stood.

Sara did the same and before they knew what happened, they were sharing an awkward hug as they giggled at the situation.

‘You’d think this is our first date’ Neal said with an embarrassed shrug.

‘So… anytime you’re done, just… come on over. I’ll be waiting…’ Sara said as she turned to leave.

She was halfway through the door when he called her back and she turned around at the sound of his voice. 

‘Sara…’ he said, his voice urgent. ‘Thanks!’

TBC


	61. Chapter 61

Neal smiled all the way to his rendezvous with Scott Connor. Sara’s impromptu visit and her unexpected invitation had given him hope that they were both moving in the right direction as they prepared for their session with Marion Birch. Watching her appear so unexpectedly had gotten his heart pumping and he couldn't wait to get back to White Plains and have dinner in his own home, with his own wife.

Despite the fact he’d been sharing his life with Sara Ellis for the better part of twenty years, the man still couldn’t quite comprehend the effect she had on him every single time he laid eyes on her. Whenever she walked into a room, his heart skipped a beat and, regardless of what he’d been doing, he would find himself smiling goofily at her as if he were a kid with a schoolboy crush. No other woman had ever made him feel quite this way and although he’d tried to play it cool when they’d first met, over the years, he’d learned to fully embrace the unsettling effect she had on him and just go with it and enjoy the ride.

At age fifty-one, Sara Ellis looked a decade younger. Her fair skin was soft and luminous, her green eyes clear and bright and her hair, which had been a variety of shades of copper over the years, fell onto her shoulders in a cascade of soft curls. These days, she wore her hair a little shorter and her body remained trim and fit, perhaps a few pounds heavier than in her twenties, which, in Neal’s opinion, filled her out in just the right places and suited her perfectly. But more than anything, it was the intonation of her voice, tinged with a hint of mirth, that fascinated Neal and his eyes were always drawn to her luscious lips whenever she spoke. By anybody’s standards, they were an old married couple; he was closing in on sixty and she wasn't very far behind. And yet, the passion that flared when they were in a room together was still very much alive and although the tension wasn't always of a sexual nature, it was invariably sensual and intimate and her mere presence made Neal feel vibrant and alive.

‘This is it, mister’ the cab driver called out as he pulled up in front of June’s Café.

Neal climbed out and examined the pale pink neon lights trumpeting the name of the little café and he thought of his beloved June; she would be pleased to know he was moving ahead with his life and finding his way back to his family.

The moment he stepped into the quaint establishment, he immediately spotted Scott Connor - not that he’d ever met the man before. But Neal had an inherent radar when it came to people and his instincts rarely let him down - that and the fact that he’d googled ‘Connor and Sons’ and seen the man’spicture online…

‘Scott’ he called out as he made his way to the table where the stranger was checking something on his phone.

‘Neal!’ the man said, putting his phone away and gesturing for the newcomer to take a seat.

‘It’s great to meet you’ he said with a warm smile as he stood to shake Neal’s hand.

At over six feet tall, Scott Connor was a good looking man, rather slim - not unlike Neal and he was dressed nattily in a suit Neal recognized as Italian wool - Canali or perhaps Corneliani. Either way, it spelled money and it was obvious this man had done very well for himself despite the hardships he'd endured.

‘Thanks for seeing me ahead of the meeting’ Neal said as he settled in across from him.

‘Another coffee please, Rose’ Scott called out to the waitress as she flew by.

He saw the look of amusement in Neal’s eyes. ‘We come here a lot, before and after our meetings’ he explained awkwardly.

‘So, how long have you been coming to the support group?’ Neal asked.

‘At this location, about four years. Before that, I attended another group in Manhattan’ he explained. ‘But we moved to the country so…’

Neal nodded in understanding. ‘Connor and Sons… your firm is into high tech, right?’ Neal said more than asked.

Scott smiled. ‘Not exactly a household name’ he said with a grin. ‘I take it you’re an adept of Google.’

Neal grinned; he already liked this guy - his wit, his swagger, not unlike him in a lot of ways.

‘What about you? What do you do for a living?’ Scott asked.

‘I own a gallery in the Chelsea Art District, the Raphael Gallery’ Neal said with pride. ‘And I run an art school for underprivileged kids out in the Bronx.’

‘An artist, huh?’ Scott said.

Neal shrugged and gave him one of his famous Caffrey smiles, teeth and all.

‘One thing I’ve realized early on is that when we step into that support group, we’re all the same, regardless of our station in life, our education, our bank accounts… In there, we’re just a bunch of men who temporarily lost their way and desperately want to stay on the straight and narrow.’

Neal nodded in understanding. ‘I’m really not sure how I ended up here’ he confessed.

‘None of us do, Neal. Life throws curve balls at you and sometimes… well, it’s just too much to handle and we stray.’

They were momentarily interrupted by Rose, returning with Neal’s coffee as he ruminated about what Scott had just said. There was a definite look of sadness in the man’s eyes and Neal recalled what Jim had told him about the terrible loss he’d faced years ago.

Neal was in a sharing mood - after all, wasn’t this support group about opening up - and he spoke up as he stared down at his coffee cup.

‘I’ve never been much of a drinker’ he confided, talking slowly. ‘About three months ago, my daughter was hit by a car and she was seriously hurt.’

Scott stared back in silence. Whereas moments before he had been charming and affable, his gaze grew serious as he listened to his new protégé.

‘I was there… when it happened’ Neal continued, his face sad. ‘And I blamed myself…’

Scott just listened in silence.

‘Anyway… I started self-medicating’ Neal said with a wry smile. ‘At first, it was so I could get some sleep but… it just became…’

‘All invasive?’ Scott offered, a man who’d obviously been there.

Neal scoffed. ‘That’s a good term. Anyway, I’ve messed up a lot since then and… well, it’s time I straighten myself out… I’ve let a lot of people down.’

Scott nodded in understanding. ‘Well, I find these groups really help, especially in the beginning when you feel like you’re the only person on the planet who’s been hard done by. It helps you realize that there are a lot of people out there suffering, just like you.’

‘I’m still detoxing’ Neal blurted out.

‘Jim got you on a six day program?’ Scott asked knowingly as Neal nodded.

‘Try to stick to it. Don’t cut down too fast… or drag it out any longer than you need to’ Scott recommended.

‘I’m supposed to have… a beer in about twenty minutes’ Neal said, somewhat embarrassed.

‘That’s okay. Have it before the meeting, that’s not a problem.’

Neal nodded. This was all so new to him and it seemed to be coming at him from all directions: therapy with Marion, counselling with Jim, detox, meetings…

Luckily Sara was home. And she was waiting for him.

WCWCWC

‘Gotcha!’ Cody shouted as he wrestled Liam to the ground in a fit of giggles.

As if it wasn't bad enough that Liam had just been taken out of the game by his boyfriend, Cody was gloating about it - and Liam was annoyed.

He’d been feeling increasingly out of sorts as the afternoon wore on and he knew it was his own damn fault for not eating enough at lunch and for forgetting to replenish his snack stash. His mom was constantly on his case about monitoring his sugar levels and generally speaking, he was pretty good at keeping himself balanced but he’d been running around all afternoon and he could feel the shakes getting worse by the minute, regrettably not an unusual occurrence. It was something that could be easily fixed - if he could just get something into his stomach.

‘Do you have anything to eat in your bag?’ he asked Cody, his voice unsteady.

Cody Miller had witnessed Liam’s reaction to low blood sugar on a couple of occasions - the shakes, the sweating, the paleness and, on one occasion when he’d pushed his luck, Liam had grown confused before Cody had forced him to have some juice. He reined in his glee at having just won the rubber game of the match and studied Liam with increasing concern. 

‘Sorry, I don’t’ he said as he helped his boyfriend to get back on his feet. ‘Not feeling well?’

‘No… I’ll have something to eat as soon as we get to your house’ Liam said as he stood rather unsteadily.

Cody’s face grew serious and he held Liam’s arm, guiding him slowly towards the parking lot and the family van where his dad was waiting to drive them all back to the city.

‘Hey guys!’ he called out to the rest of the group. ‘It’s time to go! Now!’

WCWCWC

The cab ride back to White Plains seemed interminable. Neal couldn't wait to walk into the house to find Sara waiting for him. She was his anchor and without her, he wasn't certain he'd be able to navigate all the changes in his life. The meeting had been, for lack of a better word, illuminating. The men in attendance all had a story to tell, each one different, although they'd all landed in the same place: abusing alcohol to deal with the issues life had forced upon them. It was comforting to know he wasn't alone and that alcohol dependence didn't discriminate along racial lines or levels of education. There was James, the young father who was struggling following a cancer diagnosis, Trent, the down on his luck homeless man who wrestled with mental health issues, Jerry, the grandfather of six who’d recently lost his wife and John, the good looking struggling actor who’d recently lost his job on a soap. Everyone had hardships to overcome and yet, there had been laughter and camaraderie as they all pulled together to support each other.

When the cab arrived in their neighbourhood, Neal felt as if he’d been away for months although it hadn't even been a week. So much had happened since Sara had thrown him out: his brief stay at the Webster, the intervention, the meeting with Marion, the appointment with Jim. He wished he could just step into the house, curl up in Sara’s arms and hide under the blankets until everything was magically resolved. But it was time to cowboy up, as Peter used to say, stand up to what had happened and take responsibility for his actions. He grabbed the bouquet of orchids beside him on the seat and walked up the driveway towards his little piece of heaven.

WCWCWC

The six rowdy boys were packed into the Miller family van, the unpleasant odour of sweat wafting in the air.

‘Guys, crank down your windows. Please!’ Mike Miller pleaded as they made their way down the country road back to the big city.

It had been a helluva great beginning to the summer holidays and the teens chattered loudly as they discussed what kind of pizza they would order and which movie they’d watch when they got back to the Miller house.

Liam was feeling increasingly out of sorts; the shaking had gotten even worse and he could feel sweat running down his forehead as he wiped away at it mindlessly. He just needed to hang on a little bit longer. Cody’s dad had been informed of the situation and he was on the lookout for somewhere to stop where they could pick up something for Liam to eat or drink. Unfortunately, thus far, there had been nothing but vacant fields and herd after herd of jersey cows.

‘Hang on’ Cody said as he took Liam’s hand in his. ‘We’ll be there really soon.’

He leaned forward to talk to his dad. ‘Dad, he’s really not feeling well. Can you step on it.’

‘Doing my best, son’ Mike Miller answered as he glanced in the rear view mirror at a very pale looking Liam Caffrey.

White Plains: 20 miles read the sign up ahead.

WCWCWC

Neal leaned back in his chair and placed his hand on his stomach. ‘That was delicious. Thanks’ he said with a smile.

Sara erupted in laughter and Neal gave her a quizzical look.

‘Well, that’s high praise… considering you’re the one who made it’ she said with a grin.

‘Well, _you_ warmed it up and _you_ set the table…’ Neal replied with a wink.

‘I _love_ the orchids’ she said wistfully as her eyes met his.

It felt so right to see him sitting there, in the chair where he’d always sat and yet, it seemed like an eternity since their lives had been normal. All she wanted was to have him home, have Hope home and to carry on with their wonderful lives as before.

‘Neal, I’m so proud of you’ she murmured as she reached for his hand and squeezed. ‘You’ve really stepped up.’

Neal shrugged and raised his eyebrows, embarrassed. ‘About time, huh?’ he couldn't help but say.

‘Don’t say that’ Sara admonished. ‘I know you didn't intend for any of this to happen.’

‘Maybe not but… I’ve left you all alone to deal with everything. I’m sorry.’

Sara pulled her eyes away from him momentarily. ‘I want to say it’s okay but… it’s really not’ she admitted to Neal’s surprise.

‘I’m used to the two of us facing things together’ she added as Neal frowned. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘And I’ve missed you’ he countered. ‘You have no idea how much.’

‘Neal, we can do this. We can fix things’ she said, her voice growing shaky

‘Can we?’ he said. ‘Will you ever be able forgive me for what I did? All of it…’

She hesitated before speaking. ‘I’ll admit it hurt to see you like that… that day at the hospital and when Liam called me at work to tell me you’d been drinking… I just… I felt so alone.’

He listened in silence; there was no defending any of it.

‘And then the other night…’ she began, tears in her eyes. ‘I just couldn't believe you’d do that… after everything we’ve been through.’

‘Are you saying you can never get past it?’ he asked, suddenly worried his world was about to collapse.

‘No! No honey, that’s not what I’m saying. I… I feel like I need to get certain things off my chest but… Neal, don’t you know there’s nothing you could possibly do that would make me stop loving you.’

Neal laughed sardonically; after years of a shared life, she’d become very good at deflecting.

‘That’s not the same as forgiving me’ he said, fully aware that love just wasn't enough in this situation.

Sara shook her head and wiped a wayward tear. ‘Neal, I can’t forget but… don’t you know, I’ve already forgiven you?’

Neal felt a lump in his throat at the thought of just how close he’d come to throwing it all away. If she was able to forgive him, there was still hope for them, for their future, for their family.

The bittersweet moment was interrupted by the shrill sound of the phone and Sara stood and reached for it, eyes still riveted on her husband.

‘Hello’ she said as Neal watched her fondly.

‘Mike? What’s going on… Oh my God!’ she said as the smile which had been on her face a moment earlier melted.

‘What is it?’ Neal asked.

‘Just… just…’ Sara blubbered as she stared at Neal. ‘It’s Liam…’

The phone slipped from her ear and Neal reached out for it as Sara stood, transfixed, unable to speak.

‘Hello?’ Neal said into the phone.

‘Neal, it’s Mike Miller’ came the voice on the other end. ‘Liam’s not well…’ 

‘What happened?’ Neal said, his voice steady.

‘He passed out… Cody says he’s been complaining about not feeling well but nobody had any food or juice on them. Liam said he was dizzy and he got really pale and he started to shake.’

‘Where are you?’ Neal asked, taking it all in.

‘We’re just on our way back from Foster’s Paint Ball - it’s pretty remote out here…’

The symptoms Mike was describing were all too familiar; Neal had seen Liam’s sugar levels take a dive once before and it had been terrifying.

‘He’s unconscious?’ Neal asked, still computing all the information he’d just heard.

He could hear Sara gasp as she held on to his arm and squeezed - hard.

‘Yeah…’ Mike said, sounding alarmed.

‘Don’t try to get anything in his mouth while he’s unconscious’ Neal instructed. ‘Can you pull over?’

‘I’ve _already_ pulled over by the side of the road’ Cody’s dad said breathlessly.

‘Get him out of the car and lay him down somewhere where he can get some air’ Neal instructed as he moved to the kitchen table and fired up the laptop which was laying nearby.

He was vaguely aware of Sara taking a seat next to him, hand on her mouth and he listened as Mike Miller gave instructions to someone to place Liam on the ground. Neal had a sudden, terrifying image of his son, laying by the side of the road somewhere, unconscious; he forced himself to concentrate as the typed something into the search engine.

‘Mike, listen to me. Liam’s blood sugar has taken a dive and he needs help right away. How far are you from a hospital?’ Neal asked as he frantically typed in the word ‘Glucagon’.

‘We’re maybe fifteen, twenty minutes away from Westchester Medical Centre’ Mike answered. ‘Should I call an ambulance?’

‘It’ll take them just as long to get there as it will for you to drive there. I need you to do something, Mike. Does Liam have his backpack with him?’ Neal asked as he heard Mike repeat the question to one of the boys nearby.

‘Yeah, yeah it’s right here’ Mike answered, his voice halting.

Neal let out a sigh of relief. ‘Get Cody to dig through it and find his emergency kit. It’s red and it says Glucagon on the outside’ Neal urged as he read from the laptop.

He and Sara had never had to administer the medication but they’d both been trained to do so, although that had been two years earlier and suddenly he couldn't remember the first thing about injecting it.

‘Have you got it?’ Neal asked.

‘Yeah, we found it’ Mike said.

Neal could hear Mike moving around, no doubt getting closer to where Liam was lying on the ground.

‘Listen really carefully, I’ll talk you through it, all right?’ Neal said, eyes glued on the instructions on screen.

He heard Mike let out a long slow breath and a clicking noise as if he’d put the call on handsfree. ‘Okay, I’m ready’ he said. 

‘There’s a vial and a syringe with liquid in it.’

‘I see it’ Mike answered on the other end.

Neal continued, his voice steady. ‘Flip the seal off the vial, that’s where the medication is. It’s a powder.’

‘Done’ he heard Mike say.

‘Now remove the needle cover from the syringe’ Neal said.

‘Okay…’ came Mike’s answer.

‘The needle needs to be inserted into the rubber stopper on top of the vial, then inject all the liquid into the vial of powder.’

‘What do I do with the syringe?’ Mike asked, his voice shaking.

‘Just get someone to hold it for you for a sec… now swirl the vial until the liquid is clear. Is it clear?’

‘It’s clear’ Mike answered.

‘Now you need to get that liquid back into the syringe. Just put the syringe back into the lid like you did before but this time, pull the plunger back up so the liquid goes back into the syringe.’

‘Careful’ Neal heard Mike say to someone as he worked.

‘Okay, the liquid is back in…’

‘Now listen to me Mike, you need to inject it into Liam’s thigh or his arm. Hurry!’ Neal urged.

‘Cody, move away’ Mike said into the phone.

‘I don’t want to hurt him’ Neal heard him say.

‘Mike, do it. Liam needs it right now’ Neal urged.

‘Okay, okay’ the man said as Neal heard someone gasping over the phone line. ‘It’s done.’

‘Great, you’re doing great Mike’ Neal said, letting out a sigh of relief.

‘What now?’ came Mike’s voice over the line.

‘Chances are Liam will come to in the next ten to fifteen minutes but you’ve got to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. Just be careful, when he comes to, he might throw up so make sure his head’s not lying back so he doesn't choke. Get someone to sit with him and keep an eye on him.’

‘Okay. Neal, I’m going to hang up now and get him to the hospital. Can you meet us there?’ Mike asked.

‘I’ll call and let them know you’re coming. We’re on our way’ Neal said as he hung up.

Sara remained sitting next to him, eyes glued to his, silently asking for some kind of reassurance that their boy was going to be all right - reassurance he was in no position to give her. 

‘Oh my God!’ she gasped ineffectually.

Neal could see she was in no shape to deal with the situation and he moved towards the kitchen counter and grabbed the car keys with one hand as he latched on to her arm with he other.

‘Come on, Sara. We’ve got to go’ he said as he began pulling her towards the front door.

‘Is he okay?’ she said, obviously still in shock.

Despite his own doubts, he realized his wife needed something to latch on to and it was his job to keep her from totally falling apart. He brought his hands to rest on her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.

‘Honey, look at me. He’s going to be fine, okay’ he said, mustering up all the courage he had.

He tugged at her insistently, grabbing her purse on the fly and handing it to her.

‘Now come on, Liam needs us.’

TBC


	62. Chapter 62

They were halfway to the Westchester Medical Center before Sara realized that Neal was behind the wheel - not that she could have managed to get them there safely by any stretch of the imagination. In compliance with Sara’s request that he not drive the car while he was still drinking, Neal had been getting around in big yellow taxis for weeks now. But the current situation was unique and seemingly more than she could handle and he hadn't hesitated to tuck her into the passenger’s seat and take the lead. 

A good dozen people were sitting in the waiting room with a variety of ailments, big and small, when Neal and Sara stepped into the emergency room shortly after 7:00. Without hesitation, Neal strode over to the triage desk to find out what was happening.

‘I called a little while ago’ he explained. ‘My son is diabetic and he lost consciousness. He’s being brought in by car.’

‘Caffrey?’ she asked as Neal nodded, relieved. Someone had been paying attention.

‘They haven’t arrived yet but we have a gurney ready for your son when they get here’ the duty nurse replied. ‘You can take a seat.’

Neal had barely settled in next to his wife when he spied the Millers’ van pulling up to the ER entrance through the large plate glass windows which overlooked the parking lot.

‘They're here!’ he called out to both Sara and the nurse at the desk and almost instantly, two paramedics materialized pushing a gurney and preceding Neal and Sara out the door.

They walked out to the parking lot and watched as Mike Miller stepped out of the car, followed by Cody who was helping a shaky, yet conscious, Liam out of the back seat of the van. Neal held Sara back, intent on letting the paramedics do their job and they watched from nearby as the two men helped Liam onto the stretcher and got him strapped in for the short journey into the ER.

‘Liam!’ Sara called out as they got closer.

She and Neal stood on opposite sides of the makeshift bed and looked down at a very pale looking Liam who was being followed closely by Mike and Cody Miller.

Liam’s eyes were heavy but he managed to keep them open long enough to look at his mom and dad and utter a single word.

‘Sorry’ he murmured before his eyes drifted shut.

The group followed him in and he was immediately whisked away to one of the treatment rooms at the back of the ER while they were all asked to wait for a few minutes while he was examined.

‘He’s had one dose of Glucagon’ Neal reminded the EMTs before they disappeared.

One of the paramedics nodded and the next thing they knew, Liam had disappeared from sight, leaving them all to sit and wait for the verdict in the large waiting room.

‘Mike!’ Neal said as he shook the man’s hand. ‘Thank you for getting him here so fast.’

Mike Miller looked a little worse for wear. Administering medication via injection was not his strong suit - as a matter of fact, it had been a first - but he’d managed to get the job done even though his legs were now shaking as the adrenaline began to leave his body.

‘Is he going to be all right?’ Cody asked, face ashen.

‘The fact that he’s conscious is a very good sign’ Neal said as he brought his hand to Cody’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘You did a good job, Cody.’

‘Look, I’ve got four teens in the car and I should get them home’ Mike said as he looked at his son.

‘Dad, I want to stay’ Cody pleaded as he looked over at Neal and Sara. ‘Can I stay?’

‘Of course you can’ Neal said. ‘I’m sure Liam will be glad to see your face when this is all over.’

‘I’ll be back as soon as I’m done dropping off the boys’ Mike said as he headed for the exit.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Caffrey!’ they heard the nurse call out as she motioned for them to follow her.

Neal put an arm around both Sara and Cody and followed her out of the waiting room and into the bowels of the busy ER.

WCWCWC

‘Liam?’ Cody said quietly as pulled back the curtain tentatively and stepped into the cubicle.

Liam looked up to see his boyfriend standing there, looking even worse than he felt.

‘How are you feeling?’ Cody whispered as he took a seat next to the gurney Liam was still lying on.

Normally cool, collected Cody Miller looked like he’d been running a marathon; his hair had fallen into his eyes, his breathing was rough and uneven and his face was the colour of skim milk.

‘Better than _you_ , I think’ Liam answered with a soft chuckle.

‘What the hell are you joking about?’ Cody said, obviously annoyed. He didn't find the situation even remotely amusing. ‘You almost died!’

‘Don’t be so dramatic!’ Liam countered, trying to make light of the situation - a well known Liam Caffrey deflection. ‘I’m fine. Where are my mom and dad?’

‘They’re talking to the doctor. They’ll be right in’ Cody said as he took Liam’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. ‘You really scared me.’

Liam gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand. ‘To tell you the truth, I kinda scared myself’ he admitted. ‘I didn't think I’d actually pass out.’

‘I should have said something at lunch when I noticed you were picking at your food’ Cody said as Liam cocked his eyebrows.

‘What are you, my mother now?’ Liam joked. ‘This is _totally_ my fault. I should have checked my bag. Who knew the snack bar at the paint ball placed was closed on Mondays?’

‘You’ve got to be more careful…’ Cody sighed. ‘This is serious business, you know.’

Liam’s face grew sombre. ‘I know… I know it’s serious and I’m usually pretty good at judging how much I need to eat and drink…’

‘I’ll try to remind you next time’ Cody said as Liam rolled his eyes.

‘No!’ he said, annoyed. ‘I don't need you to be my keeper. I thought you were my… boyfriend.’

‘Can’t I be both?’ Cody asked as he leaned in and kissed him softly.

As luck would have it, the curtain moved and in walked Sara and Neal, relieved to see their son looking alert, albeit still lethargic and pale.

‘Hey buddy!’ Neal said as he and Sara moved in to stand closer to their son.

‘Hi’ Liam said, sheepishly. He half expected his mom to start yelling at him but she just made her way over to stand by his side and proceeded to give him an embarrassingly tight - and long - hug.

‘Mom…’ Liam whined. ‘Seriously?’

Neal chuckled softly; he'd been on the receiving end of ‘mollycoddle Sara’ on a few occasions and he knew what it felt like. You had to at least _give_ the impression of being annoyed - even though deep down, you kind of liked it.

‘Sorry honey’ she said as she pulled away. ‘Do you have any idea how scared we were?’

‘Probably as scared as _I_ was when I realized I was going to pass out’ Liam admitted.

‘Well, luckily Cody was there’ Neal said with a smile. ‘And Cody’s dad took a crash course in first aid and passed with flying colours.’

Liam turned to face Cody. ’Your dad gave me an injection?’

‘Yeah’ Cody answered with a shrug. ‘I was pretty impressed too.’

‘What the hell were you thinking?’ Sara said, reverting to form. She leaned in, letting her hand linger on his forehead and Liam let her, closing his eyes as he melted into her loving touch.

‘Can I come home?’ he asked, eyes still closed.

‘In a little while’ Neal answered. ‘They want to keep you here for a couple of hours just to make sure your numbers are good before letting you go.’

Neal was looking pale himself and Sara noticed a sheen on his forehead that hadn't been there before. She realized that, by now, he had begun to deviate from his detox schedule and she worried he might need to have a drink before too long.

They exchanged looks and she gave him a head nod in the direction of the open space behind the curtain. 

‘Neal?’ she said as she took his arm and led him away from the boys.

‘Honey, you don't look so good. When are you due for a drink?’ she asked, arm tucked into his.

He glanced at his watch and shrugged. ‘About an hour ago’ he said as she sighed.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll have it as soon as we get back’ he said as he put a reassuring arm around her.

‘But…’ she began before he cut her off.

‘No buts. I’m not going anywhere until they let us bring Liam home’ he said with authority. ‘I can take a little discomfort… as long as he’s all right.’

WCWCWC

‘Mom, I’m _really_ sorry’ Liam said for the umpteenth time. ‘I forgot to check my backpack for snacks before I left.’

‘Honey, stop apologizing’ Sara said, running her hand through his golden hair. ‘The important thing is that you’re safe now and you’re going to be fine.’

She took a deep breath before continuing. ‘…and if you ever do anything like that again, I’ll kill you.’

Both Neal and Liam laughed; Sara Ellis could only contain herself for so long before showing her true colours.

After a gruelling four hours in the ER, Liam had been released with strict orders to continue monitoring his blood sugar levels for the next twelve hours. He was finally back home in his bed with both his parents by his side and he couldn't be more relieved.

‘Here, boy!’ he called out to Raffie as the dog lumbered over to the bed and jumped up, curling up next to Liam’s side, totally oblivious to the drama that had preceded their return to the house.

‘Try to get some sleep, buddy’ Neal said as he ruffled his hair, something his son would have scoffed at in any other situation.

‘Dad?’ he said, his voice strained. ‘Can you sleep over tonight?’

Neal and Sara locked eyes. It was getting late - almost midnight - and it seemed silly for Neal to cab it all the way back to Brooklyn at such a late hour. Of course, it wasn’t entirely up to him whether he stayed or not and he waited for Sara to speak up, which she did without much hesitation at all.

‘Of course, Daddy can sleep here’ she said to Liam before turning to Neal. ‘If that’s what you want, that is.’

Neal’s eyes went from Sara back to his son. ‘Get some sleep, buddy. I’ll be here in the morning. I’ll even make pancakes if you want… to celebrate school being out.’

Liam appeared relieved that both his parents would be around and he let himself melt into his pillow as both Neal and Sara kissed his forehead and tucked him in like a two-year-old - not that he was complaining.

They stepped out of the room and stood outside Liam’s door, staring at each other awkwardly while glancing at their own bedroom across the hall from their son’s.

‘Look, why don’t I take the hide-a-bed downstairs’ Neal suggested. ‘Then, I won’t be in your way.’

The last thing he wanted was to pressure Sara into letting him come home before she was good and ready. They had a few more hoops to jump through before everything was said and done and he was more than happy to finish doing his penance.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘We could… I mean we’ve been sharing a bed for an awfully long time…’

Neal would have loved nothing more than to follow her into the bedroom and curl up in his very own, very comfortable bed with his very own, beautiful wife. But he was learning that there was a price to pay for his actions and he was more than willing to pay that price.

‘One step at a time’ he murmured as he leaned in to kiss the top of her head. ‘Thanks for letting me stay over.’

She could feel his body shaking as he held her face in his trembling hands. ‘Honey, you’re shaking. And you’ve skipped two of your beers, that can’t be good’ she said, concerned.

‘I’ll have one right now, before I turn in’ he responded. ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine.’

He pulled away reluctantly and started slowly down the stairs, noticing Sara following him to the top of the landing.

‘There are some clean sheets in the bathroom downstairs’ she called out to him.

‘Okay, thanks’ he answered with a smirk. He knew damn well where they kept the sheets; as a matter of fact, he was the one who had put the clean ones away when he’d done the laundry the week before.

He came downstairs and pulled out a beer from the fridge which he downed in a couple of greedy swallows and he texted Peter to let him know he’d be spending the night in White Plains. He was tempted to crack open another beer right away but he decided to give himself a few minutes to see if he would begin to feel the effects before caving in. The compulsion to act without careful reflection was always getting him into trouble, it seemed, and he was hell bent on breaking that nasty habit.

Surprisingly, by the time he’d made the bed and brushed his teeth, he was feeling calmer and he slipped in between the sheets and turned in bed, facing the large patio door and looking out at the warm summer night. Through the open window, he could smell the familiar scent of strawberries which were ripe for picking but had been completely ignored as he continued to struggle with his demons. Maybe he could talk Sara into letting him hang out long enough to make some jam and a couple of pies before they became unusable. 

The moon was bright and it shed a faint light into the room as Neal’s eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, sweeping over the nearby kitchen and family room. Here he was in his own home, yet everything seemed so foreign considering he’d been existing in little more than a drunken haze for the past several weeks. More than ever, he realized just how much he yearned to be back home with those he loved. This was a first step; with any luck, if he managed to stick to his program, Sara would invite him to come home and then everything would go back to normal. He wanted nothing more than to be there when they finally welcomed Hope back home.

He grabbed for the pillow next to him and took a long, slow breath, the familiar detergent an unexpectedly soothing scent and he let himself drift off to sleep.

WCWCWC

‘Neal?’ Sara said softly as she loomed over her husband’s sleeping form.

‘Neal!’ she repeated, a little louder, when all she got for a response was her husband’s soft snoring.

He stirred and groaned, slowly getting his bearings as he saw his wife staring down at him in the moonlit family room.

‘What is it?’ he mumbled sleepily. ‘Is it Liam?’

‘No… no’ she answered sheepishly. ‘I… I can’t sleep.’

Neal chuckled softly as he looked up at her, gazing down at him like a lost little girl.

‘Come here’ he said, his voice rough.

He pulled the blankets back, inviting her in and she jumped into bed next to him, without hesitation. She instantly curled up against him and nuzzled against his chest as she let out a sigh which Neal recognized as worry.

‘Babe, he’s gonna be fine’ he said, still groggy. ‘You need to get some sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.’

He felt her nodding against him and he was just beginning to nod off again when Sara spoke once more.

‘This is all wrong’ she murmured as Neal pulled away to look at her face. Wasn't _she_ the one who’d just jumped into bed with _him_?

‘I _can't_ be on this side of the bed’ she clarified, straight-faced.

Neal snickered again and shook his head at her always weird, yet endearing, sense of humour. He lifted the blankets and watched as Sara climbed over him nimbly and settled in to his left, immediately returning to his open arms.

‘Is _that_ better?’ he asked, amused.

‘Yes…’ she whispered as she burrowed her face into his neck.

‘Is _this_ what you meant about taking things slow?’ he asked, mocking her.

‘Noooo’ Sara whined. ‘But… I couldn't sleep knowing you were down here, all alone.’

‘Oh, let me get this straight. You couldn’t sleep… worrying about me being sound asleep down here?’ Neal asked, obviously having fun at her expense.

‘Stop it!’ she complained as she slapped his chest playfully.

‘Hey, hey!’ Neal said, teasingly. ‘You’re the one who came down here, remember. You didn't see _me_ sneaking up the stairs and slipping into bed with _you_!’

Regardless of why she was there, Neal couldn't be happier. He ran his hand up and down her arm, more by force of habit than anything else, and she cooed, letting him know his touch was more than welcome.

‘You were amazing tonight, Caffrey’ she said, her voice quiet. ‘I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here when Mike called.’

‘Don’t sell yourself short, Repo. You would have been just fine’ Neal answered, his voice rough with sleep.

Up until this point, the mood had been light and playful but he heard her sniffle and he squeezed her shoulder and pulled her in a little tighter.

‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ Neal whispered, nudging her and kissing the top of her head.

‘I just can’t deal with everything on my own anymore’ she cried. ‘I’ve been trying to… keep everything together for weeks and I… I can’t do it anymore, Neal.’

‘Oh, baby…’ he moaned. ‘You’ve been amazing. This is all my fault for not being here for you.’

She shrugged and snorted, wiping her nose against Neal’s undershirt and he couldn't suppress a soft laugh at the intimate gesture.

‘I’m here _now_ though… and if you let me, I’d be happy to start carrying my share of the load.’

‘But you’ve got so much to deal with already’ she whimpered. ‘You’ve got to get better, Neal.’

‘Don’t worry so much about me. I _want_ to be here for you and the kids. You deserve a full time husband. And… I’m feeling strong Sara, being with you and the kids is a great motivator, you know’ Neal admitted.

‘Yeah?’ she asked as she pulled away to look at him.

She could see the moonlight reflecting off his clear blue eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

‘Yeah’ he replied, kissing the tip of her nose. ‘Why don't you take a break for a while and let me carry the load, huh?’

‘Just having you here… it… it makes everything easier’ Sara admitted.

It had been a long three months since the accident and Neal had been mostly missing in action. Having this discussion had been long overdue and she was relieved to find him just as he'd always been - strong and supportive.

‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’ Neal asked, his tone hopeful.

‘I’m tired of all this Neal. I just want to go back to the way things were’ she said.

She ran her hand over his cheek and he smiled back at her, eyes twinkling.

‘I ask myself every day what I did in my wretched life to deserve you’ Neal said, suddenly choked up.

She shook her head; his lack of impulse control was a double edged sword but it was most definitely part of his charm.

‘Do you want to come upstairs?’ she asked, eyes naughty. ‘We should really check on Liam in an hour or so.’

Neal leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. ‘I would _love_ to come upstairs.’

TBC


	63. Chapter 63

Caitlin Somersby turned in bed, squinting at the sunlight pouring in through her bedroom window. It took a minute to get herself situated and she smiled as she remembered school was out and she had most of the day to herself.

She’d been thrilled when the supervisor of the Blue Skies Child Care Centre had offered her a part-time job for the summer, helping out the preschool teachers - not only did she get to do something she loved, she actually got paid to do it. Even better, she could visit her grandmother on a daily basis and still have plenty of time to hang out with her friends as well as attend the advanced sculpting class Neal had registered her for, long before all hell had broken loose in the Caffrey household.

She stretched like a cat and sat up in bed, noticing how quiet the house was. Everyone was still out when she’d fallen asleep the night before and she momentarily wondered what time Sara and Liam had finally made their way home. She climbed out of bed and grabbed for her robe, tiptoeing out to use the bathroom. It was only on her way back that she noticed that, instead of one lump on her foster parents’ bed there were two - although it was a little hard to tell for sure, considering the two lumps appeared to be fused together in one big cluster under the blankets.

She barged into Liam’s room, without hesitation, and gave him a shove as he moaned in pure annoyance.

‘Hey! Monkey breath!’ she called out in a loud whisper - just one of the many colourful names she had for the long suffering teen. ‘Someone’s in bed with your mom… and it _better be_ your dad!’

Liam cracked an eye open, unimpressed. ‘It is. Now, let me get back to sleep’ he moaned as he turned over.

‘What do you mean? What the hell’s going on around here? And why am I always the last to know?’ she complained, a familiar refrain.

‘I ended up in the ER last night and Dad slept over’ Liam said as he suddenly computed what she’d said. He sat bolt upright in bed. ‘He’s in bed with her?’ he repeated.

‘That’s what I said, douche bag’ she answered.

‘Wow! I assumed Dad was going to sleep on the couch’ he admitted, suddenly wide awake.

He smiled broadly at the thought that his dad might be back for good but he didn't want to take anything for granted; adult relationships were so complicated, especially his parents’… especially lately.

‘Get up!’ Caitlin whispered loudly as she gave him a poke in the ribs. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

WCWCWC

Neal felt something tickle his nose and he opened his eyes, noticing with delight that his face was buried deep in his wife’s thick, red mane of hair. He inhaled and smiled, enjoying the familiar scent of her shampoo and he let his face drop to the curve of her neck before letting his lips settle on her bare shoulder where he delivered a long, slow kiss to the sound of Sara’s soft moans.

‘Good morning’ she murmured as she came to.

‘Morning’ he whispered back, his voice husky.

She turned to face him and his hand reached out to frame her face as their lips met in a soft, sensuous kiss before pulling away and gazing lovingly at each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

‘I was afraid it was all a dream’ Neal said as Sara smiled back at him with a goofy smile on her face.

‘Same here’ she admitted.

She lifted her head off the pillow and sniffed the air. ‘Is that coffee I smell?’

Neal got up on one elbow to join her. ‘And bacon’ he added with a frown.

The smells emanating from downstairs seemed to bring them back to reality and Sara suddenly became aware that she was lying there, buck naked, with the door to their bedroom wide open - just in case Liam needed them during the night. There was an excellent chance one of the kids would come barging in any minute and she reached over to grab her robe from the chair by the bed.

She barely had time to slip into the garment when they heard footsteps coming up the stairs - loud, thunderous footsteps, announcing the imminent arrival of two very excited someones.

‘Good morning!’ Liam and Caitlin sang out in harmony.

Neal and Sara looked at each other in surprise. The kids were each carrying a breakfast tray complete with juice, coffee, toast, eggs and bacon.

‘We thought you might need some… sustenance’ Caitlin said as Liam rolled his eyes at her.

‘Wow! To what do we owe all this?’ Sara asked as she sat up and grabbed a slice of nice, crisp bacon.

‘We thought you might want to celebrate…’ Liam began, hoping he wasn't misreading the situation. ‘… you know, with Dad moving back home.’

Neal and Sara exchanged glances. ‘Guys, don’t read too much into this, okay?’ Neal said. ‘We’re working through… things but I haven’t officially moved back in… not yet, anyway.’

Sara noticed the look of disappointment in Caitlin and Liam’s eyes and she spoke up. ‘We’re making progress though… aren’t we, Neal?’ she began, self-consciously. ‘You’re just going to have to let us work this out for ourselves, okay?’

‘But we really appreciate the breakfast, don’t we, honey?’ Neal said with a smile.

‘Smells heavenly’ Sara agreed.

Liam and Caitlin looked at each other, obviously disappointed.

‘Well, why don't we let you keep… working things out, then’ Caitlin said as she grabbed Liam by the arm and began pushing him towards the door. ‘Take your time, we’ll be downstairs… like aaaalllll the way down in the kitchen where you can’t hear _anything_ that’s going on up here. We’ll just…. Liam, come on’ she insisted as she gave him a shove and closed the door behind them.

Liam gave Caitlin the evil eye as she pushed him towards the staircase. ‘You are _so_ weird!’ he muttered under his breath.

Neal and Sara giggled as they heard footsteps receding down the stairs.

‘O-kay…’ Sara said. ‘Like that wasn't totally embarrassing.’

‘Well, subtlety’s never been Caitlin’s strong suit’ Neal added, somewhat self-consciously. ‘At least, we know they’re rooting for us.’

Sara grabbed another slice of bacon and fed it to Neal and they both seemed to relax. Their eyes met again and they stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. The magic which had transpired between the two of them as the rest of the world slept had been nothing short of amazing but it _had_ been unplanned and the issues that had led to their estrangement were still there and still needed to be dealt with.

‘This looks amazing’ Neal finally said, his eyes returning to the breakfast tray.

‘Mmmm’ Sara added as she took a nice, long sip of hot coffee.

Neal studied her, eyebrows raised in expectation; who knew what the day ahead held for them.

WCWCWC

Neal hung up the phone and turned to find his wife stepping into the kitchen, dressed and ready to go. They’d both agreed that, although they’d made some inroads in dealing with the events of the previous week,it was important to keep their appointment with Marion Birch so they could talk through the unfortunate incident which had led to their recent separation.

‘So, what did Cameron have to say?’ she asked.

‘The meeting with Dr. White has been moved to 3:00’ he said, looking worried.

‘But don’t you have your support group at 4:00?’ Sara asked.

Neal’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’ll find a way to make it work’ he answered with a frown. ‘Anyway, that was Peter. He wanted to know how things were going.’

‘What did you tell him?’ she asked as she walked over to him and laced her arms around his neck.

‘ThatLiam’s going to be fine and that… I’d be back there for dinner’ he answered as he brought his hands to cradle her hips.

Sara had only to say the word and he would gladly vacate the guest room at Casa Burke but he didn't want to put undue pressure on her before she was good and ready. He knew his list of sins had gotten pretty long and that he had a lot to atone for but spending the night with his wife had been great motivation and he was bound and determined to show her how serious he was about his recovery.

‘You know… I’m no toying with you, Neal’ she began, suddenly worried he might misinterpret what had happened between them.

‘It’s okay. I know’ Neal answered with a smile. ‘And when, or should I say _if_ , you decide to let me come home… well, I want it to be because you’re _really_ ready. I know I have a lot to make up for.’

‘Well, you certainly proved yourself last night’ Sara said as Neal wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

‘I meant with Liam’ she said as she gave him a playful slap on the arm. ‘You were there for him and for me - when we needed you.’

Neal smiled down at her and ran a hand through her hair, his eyes sparkling.

‘And… thanks for keeping me company’ she added with a naughty smile.

‘Oh, is that what we’re calling it? Keeping you _company_?’ Neal said with a wide grin. ‘Cause I really liked… keeping you company’ he added as he lifted her chin and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Raffie let out a bark as they kissed and Neal shot the dog a sharp glare, sending him scurrying under the kitchen table.

WCWCWC

‘You’re both looking very… relaxed’ Marion Birch commented as Neal and Sara took a seat next to each other on the couch in front of her.

‘In the spirit of full illumination…’ Sara began. ‘Neal spent the night at the house last night.’

‘I see’ Marion said with a smile. ‘So, do you still feel the need to be here today?’

‘We do’ Neal said hastily. ‘There are some things I really… I really want to say to Sara and I know there are things she needs to get off her chest.’

‘Okay, then’ the therapist said as she settled back in her seat and crossed her legs. ‘Who would like to begin?’

The couple looked at each other; gratuitous apologies just weren’t going to cut it and Neal felt he needed to give Sara a chance to explain how she felt about what had happened. He gave her a head nod and she put her hands on her lap and took a deep breath, preparing to speak.

‘I guess, I feel…’ she began as Marion interrupted.

‘Tell Neal, not me’ she reminded her.

Sara shifted in her seat and turned to face her husband who sat with his arm up against the back of the love seat and waited to hear her out.

‘Neal, I was really upset when you didn't listen to what I was saying the other night. Ever since… the assault, you’ve been so amazing, checking with me whenever we started to get intimate, making sure I was comfortable with what was going on.’

Neal nodded, eyes riveted on Sara’s as she opened up about that night… the night he wished he could go back and erase.

‘I’d even gotten to the point where I found it annoying that you weren’t more spontaneous in bed…’ she said as she recalled the night they’d made out on the couch and how good it had felt to see Neal finally let loose after months of holding back.

‘But the other night… well, I was clearly asking you to stop and… for a moment, I felt trapped and I got really scared because… well, that’s just not _you_ and I guess I got worried that the you I love and who’s always respected me… well, that he might be gone for good.’

Neal swallowed as he listened, the shame of what he'd done resurfacing as he listened to his wife’s words.

‘Besides being upset about what you were doing… I think _that_ scared me the most, that you had suddenly become someone who didn't respect me or my wishes. And I could never love a person who didn't respect me…’

Neal’s eyes were filling with tears as they remained glued to Sara’s. He needed to hear every single word and take full responsibility for how he’d behaved, regardless of the fact he hadn't been totally in control of his actions.

‘And I was scared and I was mad and I was sad and worried and…’ Sara continued, her voice shaky. ‘But mostly, I was angry and I didn't want to look at you anymore… because it hurt too much to know you’d become _that_ person… a person who would do that to me.’

Neal nodded in understanding, unsure what he could possibly say to make things better. He thought of all the years they had worked as a team to build something strong and lasting, in mutual respect, and how they’d seen each other through the tough times with unconditional love. Could a few minutes of recklessness totally destroy what they’d worked so hard to create?

Marion waited for a few moments, making sure Sara had finished before speaking.

‘What do you see when you look at Neal today?’ she asked.

‘I see…’ Sara’s voice croaked as she tried to speak and she cleared her throat and let out a self-deprecating giggle at the emotion that was rising inside her.

‘I see the man I fell in love with, the man who’s always been there for me, for our kids, the man who’s picked me up off the ground more times than I can remember, the man who can make everything better just by smiling…’

Neal smiled and a few tears escaped his eyes and landed on his cheeks as he awkwardly wiped them away.

‘Neal, what do you want to say to Sara?’ Marion asked.

He sat on the edge of the couch and turned to face Sara, taking her hand in both of his as she watched him, unblinking.

‘I’ve already said I’m sorry so many times… it sounds hollow and trite to say it but that’s the first thing I want to say. I _know_ you love me, no matter what but… well, that doesn't give me a free pass to behave so… recklessly, without regard for your feelings. I know I’ve broken a sacred trust… and I know you said you’ve forgiven me but I’m scared that it’ll always be in the back of your mind whenever…’

He stopped for a moment, swallowing, intent on keeping his voice steady.

‘I’m not sure how to get that trust back but I’m willing to work every day to try to gain your respect again, if you’ll let me. I’m really hoping it’s not too late for you to be able to do that.I realize that I’ve got a lot to make up for, not just what happened that night.’

Neal’s eyes looked down as he continued. ‘I’ve been… so wrapped up in guilt about what happened to Hope and shame for what I did to you and I’m working with Marion so I can get past those feelings and focus on getting my life back but… I realize I’ve always had this… need to prove myself and the accident… it just showed me that I can’t control everything or make everything better for everybody.’

‘Oh yeah, Caffrey?’ Sara interjected, laughing through unshed tears. ‘You’re just figuring that out now?’

Neal shrugged self-deprecatingly and smiled at his wife’s attempt at levity.

‘Sara… please’ he said, his voice hoarse. ‘Tell me there’s hope we can get past this and… I can hang on to that while I work all this out. Please…’

‘Didn’t I prove that there’s hope last night?’ she asked ‘…when I came to you.’

Marion watched as the couple bared their souls to each other. She knew that with raw emotion and pain came forgiveness and healing.

‘Neal, I told you I will _never_ stop loving you…’

That wasn't the same as wanting to work things out and Neal was suddenly worried that Sara might be hedging her bets, unwilling to commit to letting him back in her life.

‘That sounds like something you tell someone when you’re breaking up and you don't want to hurt their feelings…’ Neal blurted out.

‘We’re _not_ breaking up, Caffrey! There’s _no_ way we’re breaking up, okay? Just give me some time to process all this and to be able to truly let it go. Loving you has never been the problem and I can never imagine not having you with me… just… Neal, I’m asking you to give me time…’

Neal could feel himself growing upset. He hadn't wanted to admit it to himself but he’d unknowingly been pinning all his hopes on the amazing night they’d just spent together. He needed her in his life if he was going to make a go of it and now, she was asking him to prove himself before she could make a commitment to letting him come home.

‘Time for what? So I can prove myself to you?’ he asked, a tinge of anger in his voice.

Sara shrugged; maybe that’s what she was asking for. The thought that he might fail terrified her. What if he began drinking again? She would not, _could_ not live with a man who continued to use alcohol to mask his problems - no matter how much she loved him. And sadly, that would mean having to let him go.

Marion could sense the tension rising a notch.

‘Let’s see if we can come to some understanding’ she offered. ‘Sara, do you want Neal back home?’ she asked point blank.

‘Yes, I do… but…’

Neal’s face grew sad at her answer. One little word, so full of doubt.

‘Neal, do you want to go home?’ Marion asked, turning to him.

‘Yes!’ he answered emphatically. ‘Absolutely!’

‘Sara?’ Marion continued. ‘What would it take for you to ask Neal to come back home?’

Neal couldn't help feeling betrayed. Just a few short hours before, they'd been in each other’s arms and he’d hoped that the session with Marion was just a formality, that it would allow them to put the issue to rest once and for all. He’d dared to hoped that Sara wanted him home as much as he did.

Sara’s eyes filled with tears. This wasn't about whether she wanted him home or not. She wanted him back more than she could say. It was about not wanting to be a witness if he failed. She’d been watching as he tripped himself up over and over again since Hope’s accident and she wasn't sure she could take any more.

‘Just some time…’ she murmured softly.

‘How _much_ time?’ Neal asked impulsively. He knew he had no right to push but after spending the night with her, he realized how much easier things could be, how he could face just about anything if she was by his side.

‘I don’t know!’ she shouted. ‘I felt betrayed Neal! It takes more than five minutes to get over it, you know!’

Her words cut through him like a knife and he lashed out at her as he grew angry.

‘Well, it didn’t look like you were feeling _betrayed_ when you were slipping into bed with me last night!’ he answered bitterly before realizing what he’d said. 

‘I’m sorry’ she whimpered. ‘That was a mistake. I should have waited until I’d… until I’d worked everything out first.’

Neal looked at her, shattered. Since when had their lovemaking been a mistake?

‘A mistake?’ he repeated loudly as he stood and prepared to stalk out of the room.

Marion got to her feet and in an attempt to bring the temperature down, she called him back. ‘Neal, please let this play out. Just sit down for a minute.’

Neal didn't even bother turning around. Sara might be feeling betrayed by his actions but he felt as if she’d played him for a fool at a time when he needed her more than ever.

‘I think we both know where Sara stands’ he muttered as he let himself out.

In the blink of an eye, he’d disappeared and the two women stared at each other, shocked. Marion prided herself on keeping the lines of communication open in her couples’ sessions but she hadn't seen this coming and things had escalated much too fast for her to be able to intervene.

She watched Sara’s shocked face and sat down, facing her patient.

‘I must admit, I didn't see that coming’ she said. ‘Do you want to tell me what that was all about.’

‘I would if I could’ Sara said, hand on her mouth.

‘What happened last night, Sara?’

‘Neal had his first meeting with his counsellor and I… I went over to his office to see how he was doing and I ended up inviting him to dinner’ she began. ‘We were… talking, working things out but then Liam was rushed to emergency and… I kinda lost it.’

‘Is he all right?’ Marion asked with concern.

‘Yeah, he passed out. Hypoglycemia… but he’s okay’ she said as Marion nodded.

‘But Neal… he was amazing. He took everything in hand, got us to the hospital, made sure everything was all right and… well, I ended up inviting him to stay over.’

Marion frowned as she listened, not a judgment exactly but Sara reacted nonetheless.

‘What? Liam asked if he could stay and… well, to be honest I was thankful he was there and taking care of things… like he always has before.’

‘He offered to sleep on the couch’ Sara said, letting out a loud sigh of frustration at herself. ‘But I couldn't leave well enough alone and… well, I ended up joining him and… nature took its course.’

‘How do you think Neal might be feeling about that?’ Marion asked, hoping to inject a little bit of introspection into Sara’s muddled musings.

‘I don’t know… I guess I’m sending him mixed messages’ Sara admitted. ‘Marion, I love him so much and I want him home… you have no idea how much. But…’

Marion waited.

‘But?’ she finally said as Sara remained quiet.

‘I’m afraid’ she blurted out.

‘What are you afraid of?’

‘Afraid that last night was just a mirage. That the real Neal is ‘drunk Neal’ and that he was pretending to be Neal so I would let him come home…’

Marion waited for Sara to realize the folly of what she was saying - which didn't take long. Sara wasn't making much sense and she grew defensive.

‘Please stop looking at me like that’ she said, frustrated.

‘I’m not looking at you in any particular way’ Marion replied.

‘All right, all right. I’m just scared he’ll fall again and start drinking because… I just couldn't take it if he did’ Sara admitted, crying. ‘I can’t stand seeing him hurting like that.’

‘Has Neal done what you’ve asked since the intervention?’ Marion asked, trying to bring a little bit of clarity to Sara’s reflections.

Sara nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘But you don't think he’s capable of getting better?’

‘I do, I do’ Sara said spontaneously.

‘Sara, if you can’t talk about it right now, that’s fine but you need to start being honest with yourself. Is this really about what happened the other night or something else altogether?’ the therapist asked.

Sara hated the fact that Marion could see through her carefully constructed façade although in all fairness, that’s why they paid her the big bucks.

‘Neal was almost destroyed by what happened to your daughter and you were there for him, even though you were hurting too. But my sense is he knows he’s messed up and he’s trying to make amends. Now it’s up to him to follow through and it’s up to you to decide if you’re able to trust him to do what’s right from here on in. As his therapist, I can tell you that Neal would benefit greatly from having your support but you’re the only one who can decide what you’re willing and able to do to support him. Neal is responsible for his own recovery. Just know that if he perceives that you don’t support him, it could have an impact on his recovery and on your marriage.’

TBC


	64. Chapter 64

Neal was shaking like a leaf when he left the small office building in New Rochelle. He couldn't figure out how the conversation had deteriorated so quickly or why he’d been feeling so anxious and insecure during their session. After all, Sara was only being honest and that’s all he could ever ask of her. He couldn't blame her for hesitating to take him back; he knew more than anyone just how badly he’d messed up. He’d left her in a lurch for weeks on end and to top it off, he’d behaved inappropriately when she’d been at her most vulnerable. And yet, he had dared to hope that the events of the last twenty-four hours had been enough to lead her to the same conclusion he’d already come to: that they were infinitely better together than apart.

He glanced at his watch; he was slightly overdue for his next dose and he had a fleeting urge to run into the local liquor store, pick up a bottle of cheap scotch and get totally wasted. Instead, he slipped into a local coffee shop and went directly to the men’s room, downing the requisite beer before stepping back out and ordering coffee. It was only day two of detox and he was already feeling weak and vulnerable - at a time when his motivation should have been at its highest.

Holding Sara in his arms again, making love to her in their marriage bed - it had all been so wonderfully cathartic. For a short while, they’d been able to leave behind all the pain and suffering of the last few months and find peace and comfort in each other’s arms. But despite efforts to the contrary, he’d somehow managed to read too much into the rapprochement - just like Liam and Caitlin had done - and now he had to deal with the fact that their brief reconciliation might have been too little, too late and that he might have lost her for good.

He stared into his coffee cup and focussed on the hours ahead. He wanted to spend some precious time with Hope before their meeting with Dr. White. She’d been feeling increasingly frustrated with the slow progress she was making with her speech therapy and she was starting something new called melodic intonation therapy and he wanted to know how that was going.

They’d all been hoping Dr. White would give the green light to her coming home and Neal wanted to be there when she finally did so he could be involved in her therapy and support her in whatever way he could. On the other hand, he couldn't afford _not_ to go to his support group; that was a _daily_ commitment, at least for the time being, and it was designed to keep him focussed on the task at hand. Even in his confused state, Neal recognized the dangers of not following through on that essential part of his recovery process.

He recalled Scott’s words of encouragement and although he hadn't planned on calling on his sponsor so early in the process, it was infinitely better than caving in to his urge to down a fifth of whisky and get totally plastered. There was so much at stake now; Neal dismissed his impulse to act rashly and he picked up his phone.

WCWCWC

Sara was shaking too when she finally left Marion Birch’s office. She hadn't meant to push Neal away but the end result had been him storming out of their session, hurt and angry. What had she been thinking? She’d always known what a gentle, sensitive soul her husband was - no matter the stoic image he tried to project. Any pushback on her part would be interpreted as rejection by Neal especially at a time when he was feeling so unsettled and vulnerable. Having him home had been wonderful in every way, his physical presence, his calming voice, his laughter, his ability to take charge and make everything right. She thought of his strong arms around her, his warm mouth on her neck, the sound of his uneven breathing, his hard body against hers…. she shook her head to push away the recollection of their tender lovemaking and the way in which she still melted whenever he touched her.

Sara Ellis had had her share of lovers; mostly one night stands as she resisted opening up to anyone for more than the time it took for a quick roll in the hay. There had been many men, good looking men, enthusiastic lovers who would have been happy to pursue a longer term relationship with the feisty insurance investigator. But she had pushed them all away, afraid to face her own vulnerabilities, content to live life under the hard shell she’d carefully constructed to keep them all at bay.

In the beginning, Neal Caffrey had been just another one in that long line of lovers and he’d seemed just as determined as she was to keep their relationship casual and free of any long-term entanglements. He was still getting over Kate’s death and he sure as hell wasn't the marrying kind - just a charismatic, suave conman who pushed all her buttons in the bedroom and wouldn't ask for more than she was prepared to give.

But fate had intervened in the form of a defective condom and they had been forced to bare their true selves as they faced the fallout from that fateful night when they’d begun their journey as life partners and parents. Life without Neal was now unimaginable. They shared a life, a history, children, a home, a bed, joys and heartaches and Sara couldn't imagine her life without him, nor did she want to.

She thought back to the past year and the lingering effects of her kidnapping, remembering Neal’s unrelenting love and support as she struggled to find her way back to her former self and regain her self-esteem and self-respect. She thought of Neal’s tender lovemaking as she lay, pale and wasting away during her chemo treatments, all those years ago, the way he looked at her, with love and desire, when she knew she was anything _but_ desirable… but not for Neal. He’d always made love to her with the same fervour and devotion, whether she was at her very best or bald and wasting away due to her heroic fight against cancer. That’s the kind of man she’d married; a man who lived up to his commitments and held himself to an impossibly high standard in his relationships with those he loved.

She picked up her phone to call him although she had no idea how she could ever make this right.

WCWCWC

‘I feel silly… calling you’ Neal admitted as Scott slipped into the booth across from him.

‘Why? That’s what I’m here for, Neal’ Scott said as he accepted the cup of coffee the waitress placed in front of him. ‘Let me tell you about _my_ sponsor, Nick’ he continued. ‘He got me out of so many tough situations. Once, I called him from San Diego when I had a meltdown on a business trip and he had to talk me down from all the way across the country.’

Neal chuckled at the anecdote. ‘I just didn't think I’d need to call on you so soon’ he said with an embarrassed shrug.

‘The first few days are tough’ Scott confided. ‘You’ve been abusing alcohol every day for three months, Neal, and your body is having to adapt to a new routine.’

Neal nodded as he listened.

‘It’s not just about the drinking, though. I’m going through some stuff… with my wife. She asked me to leave the house last week because… well, I did something that… let’s just say that, in a moment of drunken stupidity, I stepped way over the line. Last night, we spent the night together because one of our kids got sick and I thought… well, I was _hoping_ she was going to ask me to move back home but… well, she’s not ready yet.’

‘It’s hard to go through detox without your loved ones’ Scott admitted. ‘Maybe if she sees that you’re focussed on the task…’

Neal took a sip of coffee and Scott noticed his hands were shaking.

‘Are you sticking to your schedule?’ he asked, concerned.

‘I’m trying’ Neal answered. ‘But with everything that’s been happening…’

‘Neal, you have to do more than try. You need to make this your top priority or you’ll be right back where you started from in no time. The only way you can safely detox is to follow the schedule Jim gave you to the letter.’

Neal’s eyes narrowed as he listened to Scott’s warning. With Liam getting sick and Hope in hospital, to say nothing of his responsibilities at the gallery and the school and his worries about Sara…maybe he _was_ trying to take on too much.

He looked down at his hands, shaking uncontrollably.

‘Tell me about today’ Scott said, his voice quiet. ‘Show me your schedule.’

Neal pulled out the piece of crumpled paper from his shirt pocket and handed it over to be scrutinized.

‘Did you take the beer you were scheduled to have at 10:00 this morning; you didn't write anything down?’ Scott asked, pulling out a pen from his pocket.

‘Y-yeah, I think so…’ Neal said hesitantly.

‘Neal, did you or did you _not_ have that dose?’ Scott asked, insistent.

‘I’m not sure… No. My wife and I had an appointment with our therapist this morning and I wanted to…’

‘Neal!’ Scott interrupted. ‘What about the one at noon?’

‘Yeah, I had that one’ Neal answered.

‘And you’re due for another one in thirty minutes’ Scott said as Neal nodded. ‘Do you have one with you?’

Neal pointed to the backpack he’d come in with. ‘Yeah, but I need to go to the Bronx for a meeting with my daughter’s doctor at 3:00’ he said, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

Scott sighed; it was obvious he had, in front of him, a man who was unravelling as he struggled with trying to be everything to everyone.

‘And how are you planning to get back in time for the support group meeting at 4:00?’ he asked pointedly.

‘I… I’ll find a way’ Neal muttered, feeling like a child who was being scolded.

Scott gave him a look of concern. ‘Neal, I’m not here to give you a hard time or dictate what should do…’ he began as Neal’s eyes rose to look at the man. ‘But I’ve been _exactly_ where you are and I think I know how you’re feeling. It’s easy to get caught up in the day to day stuff in our lives. But detox is tough and it needs your full attention if you’re going to be successful.’

There was silence while Neal computed what he was hearing.

‘Do you think you might do better in a residential program?’ Scott asked.

‘You mean… away from everybody?’ Neal asked, in horror.

‘Yeah, some people need that to - ’

‘NO! No’ Neal said, cutting him off. ‘My daughter’s coming home soon and I want to be there… I _need_ to be there.’ This, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt.

‘Well, then, you need to make this work, Neal. You need to get better if you’re going to be there for her.’

Neal nodded in silence; he knew Scott Connor was right and that he needed to concentrate on his _own_ recovery before he could be of any help to Hope.

‘Okay, okay’ he muttered as he came to the conclusion that he needed to make the right choices.

‘Now, come on’ Scott said as he reached out and touched Neal’s arm. ‘Let’s get some food in you before you waste away.’

WCWCWC

‘Hi sweet pea!’ Neal said into the phone.

‘Daddy…’ Hope breathed, happy to hear her father’s voice.

‘How was therapy today?’ he asked, smiling despite himself at the comforting sound of her voice.

‘Good but I really hate it’ she sang into the phone - as always, terribly off key.

‘Wow, no hesitation!’ Neal remarked.

This was the longest sentence he’d heard his daughter utter since the accident. Hope had resisted the new technique, which was based on the notion that people with traumatic brain injuries to the left hemisphere of the brain could take advantage of their preserved singing abilities from the undamaged right side. Neal reasoned that anything that would get her communicating more effectively had to be a good thing.

He decided to have some fun with it and take the pressure off her as he sang back.

‘I’m so proud of you, baby’ he crooned as Hope laughed on the other end.

‘Honey…’ he said, turning serious. ‘I’m in a bit of a jam. I wanted to be there for the meeting with Dr. White at 3:00 but it doesn't give me enough time to get to my support group meeting and… well, I realize that it’s really important that I not deviate from my schedule… at least for now.’

‘Dad-dy’ Hope stuttered. ‘Go… Please go. Need… y-y-you better.’

‘I knew you’d say that’ Neal said as he felt that persistent lump in his throat. ‘But Cam and Mom will fill me in on everything…’

‘L-love you D-d-daddy’ Hope managed to say despite the emotion that could be heard in her voice.

‘I love _you_ , sweetie. So much’ Neal said, trying hard to keep his emotions in check. ‘And I’ll be there in the morning to see you, okay?’

‘K…Bye Daddy’ she said sweetly, suddenly sounding like a five-year-old.

‘Bye sweet pea’ he replied with a tremor in his voice.

WCWCWC

‘Sara! What are _you_ doing here?’ Elizabeth said as she opened the front door to find her best friend standing there, looking agitated.

‘I… I’m looking for Neal’ Sara said, her voice trembling.

El could see Sara was on the verge of tears. ‘Honey, come in, come in’ she said as she took her arm and led her into the house. ‘What’s the matter? What’s going on?’

‘Is he here?’ Sara repeated, glancing around.

‘Not yet, Peter’s just gone to pick him up at his support group meeting. They should be back any minute’ Elizabeth answered as she led her friend into the kitchen.

‘Oh, El! I’ve made such a mess of things’ Sara said as she followed her to the back of the house. 

Elizabeth walked over to the stove and put some water on to boil; she was a firm believer that tea always helped, no matter the situation.

‘Tell me everything’ she said as she took Sara’s hand in hers.

‘You mean Neal hasn't told you?’ Sara asked, obviously distraught.

‘I haven't seen him all day’ El replied. ‘He called this morning and said to expect him for dinner but that’s all.’

Sara nodded and took a breath. ‘Well, last night, he stayed over…’ she began, her voice shaking.

El wagged her eyebrows at Sara expectantly.

‘Stop it!’ Sara cried out, rather unconvincingly.

Elizabeth just stared back and waited for her friend to come clean about what had happened.

‘All right, all right!’ Sara said, finally caving in to the silent treatment. ‘We… slept together’ she added cryptically.

Elizabeth still had that look of skepticism plastered on her face.

‘Yes! Yes!’ Sara cried, out unable to withstand the pressure.

‘Sara! Really?’ El said, incredulous. ‘Give the poor guy a break. Is he in or is he out?’

‘I know, I know! And then to make matters worse, we had our session with Marion this morning to try to work things out and I… well, I sort of pushed him away and said I wasn't ready for him to come home yet.’

‘Awww, Sara!’ Elizabeth moaned in reproach.

‘You should have seen his face, El. He was devastated. And last night, when this thing with Liam happened, he was… he was amazing. Just like good old Neal, cool, calm, responsible…’

‘Sara, what are you _waiting_ for? He’s doing his best. He called Peter and asked him to pick him up. He’s struggling with sticking to the program’ Elizabeth said. ‘And now, I know why.’

‘Thank you for that’ Sara moaned sarcastically. ‘And then, he didn't come to the meeting at the hospital because he needed to go to his support group… which was the absolute best thing he could have done but… I left him a message and I still haven't heard back.’

El brought her hand up to rest on Sara’s arm. ’Honey, this can be fixed. Just… tell him how you feel. Tell him you want him to come home… I _assume_ you want him to come home?’

Sara nodded enthusiastically. ‘You have no idea’ she replied.

The whistle from the kettle interrupted them and El turned to prepare them a cup of tea.

‘Now relax!’ she ordered. ‘They’ll be home any minute.’

WCWCWC

‘Thanks Peter… for picking me up. I’m still a little shaky, I guess’ Neal said as he sat next to his best friend in the Burke car.

‘No problem, you _know_ that’ Peter responded. ‘So, what’s happened to get you all riled up. I assumed when you spent the night at home last night that it was… good news.’

‘Yeah, well so did I but… you know what they say about assuming’ Neal countered as he checked his phone.

‘Sara left me a message’ he said, his voice hopeful. ‘I hope it’s good news. They were going to talk to the doctor about letting Hope come home.’

‘That’s great!’ Peter enthused. ‘That’ll really boost her morale.’

Neal smiled; he’d call Sara the minute they got in so he could get the lowdown.

‘So?’ Peter asked expectantly as Neal frowned. ‘Last night?’

‘Oh…’ Neal muttered as he got back on topic. ‘I thought Sara was on the verge of asking me to come home but this morning in our session with Marion, she kind of backed off and… she says she’s not ready.’

Peter gave his best friend a sympathetic smile. ‘An awful lot has happened over the past few months, maybe she just needs a little bit more time.’

Neal shrugged; he knew Peter was right but it didn't make things any easier.

‘I almost ran out and got a bottle from the liquor store after I left Marion’s office…’ Neal admitted.

Peter raised his eyebrows in response. ‘But you didn’t.’

‘No, I didn’t’ Neal said with a sad smile. ‘There’s too much at stake. I want to be there for Hope and… well, I’m hoping eventually, Sara will be ready to let me come home.’

‘Did you…?’ Peter asked, leaving the awkward question unfinished.

‘Yeah, we did’ Neal said, averting his friend’s eyes. ‘And it was amazing… that’s why I thought…’

‘Aww, buddy. I’m sorry you’re having to go through all this.’

‘Hey, I deserve it… and more’ Neal admitted. ‘After everything I’ve put her through, I wouldn't blame her if she _never_ let me come home.’

‘Come on, Neal. This is Sara we’re talking about. She’s crazy about you… she’s just hurting that’s all’ Peter explained.

Neal nodded in understanding and let his eyes roam to the traffic outside the car window. As far as he he was concerned, this whole mess couldn't end fast enough.

WCWCWC

The first thing Neal noticed as Peter drove around the block a second time was the Caffrey’s SUV parked a few houses down. His heart skipped a beat and he reminded himself of the importance of not getting his hopes up. Still, when Peter finally found a parking spot, Neal sprinted up the steps to the Burke house, his heart pounding in his chest. 

The minute the door opened, he heard soft voices coming from the kitchen and he called out, announcing their return - even though Peter still hadn't made it all the way up the steps to the house.

‘We’re back!’ Neal called out as he followed the voices to the kitchen.

Sara’s head turned at the sound of his voice, her face expectant as he came around the corner.

‘Sara!’ he called out, feigning surprise - he still had it in him.

‘Hi!’ she said with a tentative smile.

Elizabeth’s eyes went from husband to wife, noting the look of pain and heartache on both their faces. It was time for all this to end, the sooner, the better and that meant making herself (and Peter) scarce while the embattled couple talked things out. She quickly grabbed the casserole that had been cooking in the oven and placed it on the kitchen island.

‘Here, why don’t you two help yourselves to this’ she said. ‘Peter and I are going out for dinner.’

Peter appeared with a look of total confusion on his face as El moved towards him and laced her arm in his.

‘Come on honey. You’re taking me out to dinner’ she announced as Peter tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

Within seconds, the Burkes had disappeared leaving a shell-shocked Neal and Sara staring at each other in disbelief.

‘Boy, I can really clear a room’ Neal said with a nervous laugh.

Sara giggled awkwardly as she turned to face him.

‘I got your text’ Neal said, anxious for news about Hope. ‘How did it go?’

Sara’s face lit up and Neal responded in kind. ‘She’s coming home, Neal!’ she announced, excitement in her voice. ‘This weekend!’

‘You’re kidding!’ Neal exclaimed as he spontaneously lifted Sara up in his arms and twirled her around. ‘Our baby’s coming home!’

WCWCWC

‘It’ll be nice to get our lives back to normal, won’t it?’ Peter commented as he and Elizabeth headed to their neighbourhood sushi bar - her choice, not his.

‘Well, if we give them a couple of hours, I have a feeling Neal will be vacating the guest room as of tonight’ she said.

‘You think so?’ Peter asked, hopeful.

Not that he didn't like having Neal around but they always did better when they had a little bit of distance between them. At their age, the ‘odd couple’ routine got old very fast. 

Elizabeth nodded in response.

‘Now’ she said, as they pulled in to the sushi bar’s parking lot. ‘How about we forget about this place and go to that new burger joint that just opened up?’ she said as Peter’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

‘Honey, you’re the best!’ he exclaimed as he pulled the car back out onto the road.

WCWCWC

Sara scooped up some tuna casserole on a couple of plates and placed one in front of her husband.

‘Smells good’ Neal said as he picked up his fork, eyes avoiding his wife.

As much as he wanted to move things along, the ball was in Sara’s court. He’d already made his wishes known and it was up to her now.

‘Neal…’ she began as she took a small bite. ‘About this morning…’

Neal’s eyes came up to meet hers as he waited for her to continue.

‘I’m just... I’m scared of what’s ahead but that was no reason to lead you on like I did. Truth is, I was all set to ask you to come home and… somehow, when we started to talk about it with Marion, I just panicked.’

Neal listened, not saying a word and trying to keep his stomach from doing those annoying flip-flops it was presently doing.

‘I’m sorry, I was wrong’ she continued. ‘I mean, this morning, _not_ last night. Last night… last night was perfect’ she said as she put her hand on his, feeling him start to relax.

‘You’ve _always_ been there for me…’ she added.

Neal scoffed. ‘You care to rephrase that?’

‘No, I _don’t’_ she replied categorically. ‘This thing… with your drinking. I know that once it got a hold of you, you became powerless against it. But now that you’re getting the help you need, well, I want to be there for you… to help you through just like you’ve always been there for me.’

Neal’s face began to soften as his wife spoke, noticing the tears filling her eyes.

‘I’m sorry Sara. I’m sorry I wasn't there for you and I’m sorry about… what happened last week’ he muttered.

‘I know and I forgive you. And I want you to come home where you belong. If that’s… well, if it’s what you want’ she said, suddenly worried he might have had enough of her wavering.

‘Are you kidding?’ Neal said as he stood and made his way around the kitchen counter separating them.

She was instantly on her feet, arms around his neck as he slipped his arms around her and held her against his shaking body.

Suddenly, his appetite had disappeared as had hers and they glanced down at the half-eaten plates nearby, laughing through tears of joy.

‘What do you say we leave Peter and El a thank you note and get the hell out of here?’ he suggested.

Sara laughed without restraint. ’I think that’s a great idea!’

TBC


	65. Chapter 65

‘Can’t b-believe…’ Hope began as Cameron cut her off with a kiss.

‘Believe it, Hope!’ Cam said, pulling out of the kiss and playfully touching the tip of her nose. ‘You’re beginning to sound like a broken record, you’ve been saying the same thing every morning for the past six days!’

Hope giggled. ‘Just happy’ she uttered breathlessly.

As annoying as it was to have to travel to the hospital every day for physio and speech therapy, it was well worth it to finally be back home and to wake up in her own bed with Cameron Armstrong next to her. When the doctors had given her the green light to leave the hospital, it had been on very strict orders that she come in five days a week for therapy and that she meet with Dr. White on a weekly basis in order to monitor her progress.

Being back home was fantastic and the fact that her parents had invited Cam to stay with them for the foreseeable future made everything even better. Her old room, up on the third floor of the house, had become their private refuge and despite the fact that her future was still up in the air, Hope had been thrilled to sleep in her own bed next to her fiancé - and for the time being, that was good enough.

‘So, who’s all coming tonight, anyway?’ Cam asked as he settled back with Hope in his arms.

‘Like… ev-everybody we know’ she answered, her diction still choppy.

‘Well, your dad said they’d been planning this party for us way back in March’ Cameron said as Hope nodded.

‘B-birthday and engagement p-p-party’ she said in agreement.

‘Engagement party…’ Cameron repeated dreamily. ‘I _like_ the sound of that.’

He took her left hand in his, admiring the diamond solitaire, the promise of a new life for the two of them as they left the pain and heartache behind and finally looked ahead to the future.

‘My mom and dad should be arriving at around lunch time’ he reminded her as she nodded.

‘Nice’ she answered simply.

She’d only met Bonnie and Fred Armstrong once, when she’d visited their farm the previous summer and she was looking forward to seeing them again and celebrating their engagement with both sets of parents.

‘I guess I should jump in the shower’ Cam said as he tried to disentangle himself from Hope’s arms.

She held him back for a moment, leering at him. ‘Want some company?’ she asked.

WCWCWC

‘Sounds like the kids are up’ Neal said as he heard footsteps over their heads.

‘Mmmm’ Sara moaned, curled up against him, seemingly in no hurry to get up.

Neal had been home for ten days and he’d completed his detox right on schedule with Sara faithfully by his side. Once home, things had gotten a little easier and he’d followed Jim’s advice to the letter as he’d gradually reduced his alcohol consumption over a six day period. He was feeling settled, relieved to have Hope home and feeling like he could conquer the world although he was well aware that his recovery was still very new and hence, very fragile.

The party they’d been planning for the past week would be his first real test. Alcohol would be served to their guests and Neal had stocked up on apple cider so he could partake of the many toasts that were expected as they celebrated Hope and Cameron’s betrothal. He was still attending daily support group meetings and he planned to do so for the next few weeks along with twice weekly visits to Jim McDougall’s office and his once a week sessions with Marion Birch.

All in all, he felt covered from all angles, most notably on the home front, with Sara and his children there to support him. He’d begun to regain his trademark joie de vivre, which had been cruelly ripped away from him on that cold night in March.

‘Did you remember to invite the Millers?’ Neal asked.

‘Of course’ she said with assurance. ‘Did you get the apple cider?’

‘Of course’ he said, mimicking her and laughing.

‘Neal…’ she said breathlessly as she got up on one elbow to look at him. ‘I can't believe we’re finally here.’

‘I know…what a ride, huh?’ he whispered wistfully as he ran his hand through her hair.

Indeed, it had been a roller-coaster ride and they still had a long way to go. Settling into sobriety would take time although now that Neal had rid himself of his physical dependence on alcohol, it was easier to see the light at the end of the tunnel. On the other hand, Hope’s long term prognosis was still uncertain. She was talking more and more but nowhere near enough to allow her to communicate effectively in a university setting - not yet, anyway - and Neal and Sara prepared to give her the support she’d need to face her upcoming surgery and the next steps in her recovery.

The Caffreys had found a measure of peace upon hearing that the drunk driver who had hit Hope had pleaded guilty to vehicular assault and would be serving two years in jail for his crime. It had never been about retribution but it had been reassuring to know that justice had been served and Neal was forever thankful that, by the grace of God, he’d been kept from a similar fate as he'd struggled with his own demons.

But today was all about celebration and Sara grinned at her husband, grateful that life had handed them a second chance.

‘We have a _lot_ to do today’ she stated as she sat up in bed. ‘How’s your mom getting here?’

‘They’re bringing her over by adapted transport’ Neal responded as he followed suit and sat up alongside her. ‘Did you remember to pick up the asparagus I need for the quiches?’

‘Yes I did, oh chief cook and bottle washer’ she answered with an irrepressible giggle.

Neal reached out to jostle her and Sara pulled away, playfully taunting him.

‘You’d better hurry up and get out of this bed before I have my way with you’ Neal teased as he tickled her mercilessly.

But it was too late, his hands were already reaching out for her and pulling her down on the bed and Sara didn't even try to fight back.

WCWCWC

‘Hi! I hope we’re not too early’ Sam Jordan said as he stepped into the Caffrey house with his baby daughter in his arms.

‘Not at all!’ Neal said as he glanced lovingly at the newborn, sleeping peacefully in her daddy’s arms.

‘Hi Chloe’ he added softly as he leaned down and kissed the top of the infant’s head. ‘Hey, where’s…’

He’d barely got a word out when he spotted big sister Beatrice racing up the walkway towards him, followed by Lydia who was carrying some sort of food offering.

‘Uncle Neal!’ the child screamed as she ran up to the doorway and threw herself into his arms.

‘Bibi! Oh, my God, you’ve grown since I last saw you’ Neal said as he scooped her up and hugged her tightly.

He’d asked the Jordans to arrive a little earlier. The time had come for him to come clean about the unfortunate incident which had taken place the last time his goddaughter had visited and he wanted to make a clean start, regardless of the possible repercussions. Making amends was a crucial part of his recovery and with every step he took towards taking responsibility for his actions, he felt increasingly liberated from the shackles of his addiction.

He dared to hope that they would be understanding although he was prepared to live with the consequences of his actions, no matter what.

Sara came up behind Neal and placed a reassuring hand on his back, intent on being there for him every step of the way.

‘Jordans! You’re here!’ she called out as the little family stepped into the house.

‘I brought a salad. Hope that’s okay’ Lydia said as she handed over the large bowl to her hostess.

‘Great, thanks! Come on through to the back’ Sara said as she led the way.

The house was festive, food abounding, and Neal had rearranged the furniture in the family room so people could circulate more easily out onto the deck if they wanted to sit outside and enjoy the beautiful summer day.

Caitlin had been recruited to keep an eye on little Bea and within minutes, the two of them had disappeared into the basement studio while the adults sat out on the deck around a pitcher of lemonade.

‘You’re looking good, Neal’ Sam said as he and his wife sat side by side, baby Chloe safely tucked in her daddy’s arms.

‘I’m doing much better, thanks’ Neal said, feeling apprehensive. ‘I’ve finished detox… and it helps to finally have Hope home.’

He’d mentally rehearsed his confession but now that the time had come, he was feeling anxious and he felt Sara’s hand appear on his leg as he prepared to speak. He let his hand drop on top of hers and squeezed, comforted by her presence.

‘Actually, I was hoping we’d have a few minutes to talk before everyone gets here’ Neal said tentatively.

Lydia and Sam leaned in, unsure what was on Neal’s mind. 

‘What’s up?’ Sam asked as he jostled the baby who’d begun to fuss in his arms.

Neal glanced at Sara, looking for moral support and he cleared his throat. He was suddenly terrified that he might lose the couple’s friendship and any chance to spend time with his beloved goddaughter.

‘I wanted to talk to you about something that happened the last time Bea was over’ Neal started, his voice quiet. ‘I was really struggling… with the booze at that point and… well, Bibi and I went down to the studio to do some painting and I… I poured myself a glass of scotch.’

Lydia and Sam kept their eyes on Neal, unsure where this was going. Now that he’d finished detox, he looked good, relaxed and confident, just as they’d always known him. Whatever had happened that night was serious enough for him to want to bring it up, weeks later.

‘We were just getting organized to do some painting and I turned away for a minute… to get an easel for Bibi and… while my back was turned… well, she thought it was a glass of apple juice and by the time I turned around again, she’d gulped the whole thing down.’

‘What?’ Lydia said, her face growing serious.

Neal waited for some admonition on their part but none came; they just sat there in silence and waited for him to continue.

‘She spit up quite a bit of it but she _did_ swallow some of the scotch and… well, later she threw up.’

‘So… it wasn't the spaghetti, like you said?’ Sam asked, disappointed in his friend.

‘No, it wasn’t’ Neal admitted. ‘I felt so embarrassed that when you came to pick her up… well, I let you believe it was because she’d overeaten. I’m so sorry… for letting it happen… and for not telling you the truth earlier.’

Sara squeezed his hand; she knew how difficult this was for Neal and she also knew what was a stake.

‘I know it’s long since passed but… I couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell you the truth’ Neal added as he held their gaze. ‘Again, I’m sorry…’

Lydia looked from Neal to Sara as she digested what he’d just said. ‘I’m disappointed, Neal… that you didn't think you could tell us the truth. I suppose this kind of thing can happen even under the best of circumstances. Did you not think we’d understand?’

‘I don’t know…’ Neal said, quietly. ‘I was ashamed of what I’d done and I was afraid you might not trust me anymore to spend time with her…’

Sam looked over at his wife. ‘Neal, you’re an amazing godfather to Beatrice, you always have been. I just wish you’d told me the truth when it first happened.’

Neal nodded and let out a sigh. ‘You’re right. I should have said something that day. I hope you’ll give me another chance to show you just how much Bibi means to me. I would cut off my right arm before I’d let anything happen to her’ he said, his voice shaky.

Sam shared a knowing look with his wife and looked down at baby Chloe who had finally settled in his arms. In a gesture of reconciliation, he lifted her up, offering her to Neal.

‘Would you like to hold her?’ he asked as Neal let out a sigh of relief.

‘Yeah… yeah, I’d like that very much’ he said as he put out his arms to take the baby.

WCWCWC

By late afternoon, the house and the backyard were full of guests including Linda, the Armstrongs, the Burkes, the Millers, the Masons, members of the White Collar team, Mozzie, as well as some of Hope and Cameron’s friends. Peter had taken up duty at the barbecue flipping burgers while Neal headed up kitchen duty, making sure the guests had plenty to eat and drink.

Cameron and Hope were inseparable and Neal watched as they moved from guest to guest, thanking everyone for coming to celebrate with them. Hope was in her element and despite her verbal limitations and the scars still on her face, she was absolutely glowing in a bright yellow dress she’d chosen for the occasion.

The mood was light and festive and Neal realized once more just how much he had in his life to be thankful for, despite the hardships they’d endured over the past few months. Where there was faith and love, there was hope for the future and Neal basked in the friendship and support which had allowed him to climb out of the dark black hole he’d been in.

‘Hey’ Sara said as she came up behind him. ‘You okay?’

He turned to face her, placing a morsel of food in her mouth as she hummed. ‘I am… so much better than okay’ he said as he laced is arms around her waist.

‘This is what it’s all about. Family and friends’ he said as Sara nodded. ‘I’m a very, very lucky man.’

‘We’re both really lucky, Caffrey’ Sara said as he touched his face.

There were still rough times ahead but in that moment, Neal realized that he was equipped to face just about anything. He had all he needed, right there in his arms.

La fin


End file.
